


Restless

by bzou



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aromantic Bokuto Koutarou, Clubbing, Drug Use, M/M, Minor Hanamaki Takahiro/Matsukawa Issei
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-05-14 17:20:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 68,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5751670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bzou/pseuds/bzou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kageyama moves to Tokyo for school on a sports scholarship. It's easy to lose yourself in a big city when you come from a sleepy town and weren't very sociable, but luckily for him, he meets a group of people that'll show him how to let loose and have a little fun.</p><p>Any interest he'd have in one with a laidback air and devilish grin is purely coincidence.</p><p>But what happens when he can't juggle school and a social life?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've been working on this (read: just thinking abt it and maybe once in a while writing a paragraph) for far too long but here it is, the first chapter finaLLY
> 
> The only difference in this au is that Karasuno never met the Tokyo teams, and Bokuto and Kuroo are a couple years older
> 
> Song suggestions will probably be included at the beginning of each chapter, should u want to listen! It's a clubbing au afterall.
> 
> Title comes from Restless - Leatherette, the song that gave birth to the whole au (it's actually a kurokage song from a totally different au lmao)

 

“Now, remember, Tobio,” Kageyama’s mother stacked the last broken-down box on the others, turning to him, “just because you’re here on a sports scholarship does _not_ mean you can ignore your studies for volleyball. Okay?” She smiled warmly and it reached her eyes, crinkling in the corners. He nodded, mouth set in a tight line.

It hadn’t exactly been a miracle he’d been accepted to university based on his volleyball skills – in fact, from many, it was expected, and Kageyama’d been counting on it knowing his track record with academia. He’d been scouted early and accepted the offer from the school he’d deemed with the best facilities, the best coaches, and most importantly, the best team.

Choosing what to study though... well, the school didn’t offer just volleyball, and anything else he could think of that might involve it – sports sciences or sports journalism – just was not up his alley, so he ended up settling on a general education, hoping against hope that it’d somehow be easier than a more focused degree.

Kageyama has heard the same lecture over and over again for the last few months – particularly from his father – to properly balance out school and volleyball, especially now that he’d be living alone.

“You’ll be okay here by yourself, right?” His mother sat down on his small bed, smoothing out the sheets she’d put on. They’d managed to get a single dorm for him, which Kageyama actually preferred, but she fussed to much over him. “If you need anything, ask one of your neighbours, and please try to be somewhat friendly.”

“I’ll be fine,” he said quietly, placing folded clothes in the dresser.

“And if you get lost, ask someone for directions,” she said, packing a map for him in his bag (that he insisted he didn’t need). “It should only be a short train ride to most of your classes, and you have a few days before school starts, so maybe take a day to learn the system.”

He nodded, sitting back in his desk chair. Honestly, he’d be lying if he wasn’t the least bit nervous about moving to the city. He’d been to Tokyo for shopping and training camps, but even then it wasn’t for long or stayed on the outskirts. Now, though, he’s living in the heart of the bustling city and commuting a short distance for classes. Unfortunately, he wasn’t able to secure a dorm closer to school, and many of the education buildings were scattered across the city anyway. On the bright side, his dorm was just a short walk from the athletic complex, and he was eager to go check out the facilities, especially the gyms.

“Hon,” his mother said softly, snapping him out of his mental planning for tomorrow, “we really are proud of you, you know that?” He nodded and she smiled. “I just want you to do your best, okay? Stay on top of your work; I won’t be around to nag you as much. And no more late night runs, you hear me?”

“What, you knew about that?”

“Tobio,” she chided, “I mean it. The city’s different at night, I don’t want you getting into any trouble.” He sat up straight and nodded earnestly – he was going to try to take her advice, though he couldn’t promise it. Sleep didn’t come easy to him, and running was a great way to clear his head, but she was right. This was an unfamiliar city, much different than the sleepy town he was used to, where he could run in the wee hours of the morning and not see a soul, and could find his way back home blind.

Kageyama’s mother got up from the bed and crossed the tiny room with one step and pulled her kid close. “I’m gonna miss you, Tobio,” she said quietly before laughing. “And believe it or not, your father’s going to miss you, too.”

Kageyama clutched her back and mumbled something she couldn’t quite hear, but she knew that he’d miss them too.

 

 

“So what’s your room like, huh?” Kageyama sighed into the phone, where Hinata was eagerly awaiting his response. “You don’t have a roommate right? Must have a lot of room to yourself.”

“Not really,” he mumbled, tired from moving and Hinata’s energy. They didn’t even need to be in the same room for him to feel the other bursting with an excitement that only exhausted him further.

“Well, at least you don’t have to _share_ your tiny room,” Hinata huffed.

“Oh, shut up, you said your roommate won’t be showing up till tomorrow.”

“That’s no excuse! I bet your single room is still bigger than this. We have bunk beds, Kageyama. _Bunk beds._ ”

“You already called the top bunk, didn’t you.”

A pause before Hinata mumbled, “Maybe. I gotta claim it before he comes waltzing in tomorrow with all his junk, okay?” Kageyama heard rustling and then a huff. “What’re your plans tomorrow?”

Kageyama shrugged before he realized Hinata couldn’t see. “I dunno. Probably go check out the gym. Classes start the day after tomorrow; I might not have time before club starts.”

“Yeah, yeah. You need to get as much practice in as you can before _your_ team faces _mine,”_ Kageyama could practically hear the devilish grin through the phone and he snorted. “We can finally settle things from middle school, I can’t _wait_ to finally kick your ass.”

“Fat chance.”

Hinata laughed. “Send me pics of your gym, okay? I wanna see if yours is better.”

“And have you spy on us? You must be out of your mind.”

“Ah, c’mon, Kageyama! Maybe I’ll switch schools if it’s really good.”

“I thought you wanted to ‘ _beat me’_.” Kageyama looked at the clock on his bedside table and it blinked back at him how late it had gotten. He’d had a long day and wanted to get a decent start tomorrow, so he guessed he should wrap this up.

“You’ve got a point there.”

“I know I do. Anyways,” he sighed, getting up to get ready for bed, “it’s late and I’m tired. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Party pooper,” Hinata huffed. “Alright, I’ll let you go. Show me the gym tomorrow! Or I’ll take a train there to see it for myself.”

“Yeah, yeah. Good night, Hinata.”

 

 

Kageyama loved gyms. The clean smell, the sound of sneakers squeaking against freshly waxed floors, the echo of balls bouncing against floors and walls. It all felt comfortable.

He came a little earlier than he intended to, not having anything else to do today and he thought the gym might be a little more sparse. It wasn’t like he was avoiding people, but he did come to check it out and maybe meet the coach, put his face out there, try to be pleasant and friendly as best he could.

He frowned when he saw there was already a small group of rowdy guys playing in one corner of the gym. He couldn’t look around as thoroughly as he wanted, now, lest he look like he didn’t belong or was new, god forbid. Worst of all, though, was how _loud_ they were. And how fast and loose they were playing with the rules.

He huffed. If you were going to play volleyball, play it with some goddamn _respect_. He tried to ignore them as best he could while looking around, hoping maybe to find the coach’s office.

“Hey, who’s that?” One of them asked another, ducking under the net and wiping his face with the collar of his shirt and nodded in Kageyama’s direction

The other guy shrugged, thoroughly checking him out – he didn’t look like he was lost, but he’d never seen him around. “Newbie?”

“Probably,” he snorted. “Hey!” The guy called out to Kageyama, waving his hands around before a third and smaller guy muffled him, practically bending him over backwards to reach – and not all, unintentionally.

Kageyama looked over then looked around. They weren’t addressing him, were they? He... really hoped not.

The loud guy managed to break free from the small one and called out again. “Hey! You!” Kageyama blinked and pointed at himself. “Yeah! You play?” The guy nodded towards the net. Kageyama stared for a few beats before nodding slowly, startled by a delighted shout and the guy clapping his hands together. “Great! We can play three-on-three!”

Play? With these guys? Kageyama didn’t generally like playing volleyball without at least taking it a bit seriously, but his mom’s words echoed in his head. He really should try to be friendly. Besides, it was a free game and it was hard for Kageyama to ever pass up a game of volleyball.

The guy jogged over and clapped Kageyama on the back. “We’re missing Akaashi anyway, so you’re perfect! You play regularly?”

“Uh, yeah,” Kageyama mumbled while the other ushered him towards their corner.

“Cool! What position?”

“Setter...?” Kageyama was feeling mighty uncomfortable, especially with this guy, loud and asking too many questions and pushing him towards a bunch of strangers.

“Sweet, you can toss to me! You thinking ‘bout joining the team?”

“I sort of already am? On the team, I mean...” They stopped when they reached the others and Kageyama purposefully did not look at any of them, especially while they all scrutinized him with unfamiliar eyes.

“Oh, wait wait wait. _You’re_ the new guy?” The guy stared at him with wide eyes before clapping his shoulder. “This is great!”

“Bokuto, settle the fuck down,” the shorter guy mumbled, pulling his arm off of Kageyama. “Sorry, he’s kind of excitable.”

“Hey, I get to meet one of our setters before _anyone else_ , I get to practice with him earlier than others, I’m allowed to be excited.”

“That doesn’t explain why you’re like this all the time,” another guy teased, and Bokuto whirled on him, yelling “Hey!”

“You’re a new student, right?” The small guy asked again and Kageyama nodded. “Ah, well. Welcome, I guess. I’m Yaku.” Kageyama nodded and barely got his own introduction out before Bokuto swung an arm over his shoulder and escorted him to the other side of the net.

“Great, you’re playing on my team with Matsukawa.” Matsukawa offered a lazy wave in Kageyama’s direction.

Kageyama looked and felt uncomfortable, but once they got into the game, the tension from his shoulders melted and he actually found himself enjoying the game. He didn’t even mind that much when Bokuto rushed one of the other guy’s under the net when his spike was successfully blocked, and almost laughed when Yaku scolded him.

He felt a little competitive fire light up when the guy blocked their spike again and shot Kageyama a mischievous grin, and he started to play a little more seriously. It was good practice, anyway, if he was going to be working with Bokuto during the school year.

“So, Kageyama,” Bokuto sat up on his elbows, sprawled out on the gym floor where they all were in a haphazard circle after playing for quite some time, “how’s it feel to play with one of the best spikers in the country?”

Kageyama’s eyebrows scrunched together. “You’re one of the best spikers?”

One of them started laughing hard, rolling back and holding his stomach. Kageyama blushed. He didn’t really think he said anything funny, he just didn’t know.

“Oh, I like this one,” the guy said, pointing at Kageyama while wiping a tear from his eye.

“Shut the fuck up, Kuroo,” Bokuto tried kicking him from where he was but fell short.

“You should play with us again,” Kuroo said, sitting back on his elbows, grinning at Kageyama, and he pinked just a little. People were inviting him to hang out again? Unfortunately, he couldn’t say he was used to that, and he couldn’t help but nod a little bit more excitedly, and Kuroo smiled a bit more genuinely before Bokuto actually shuffled close enough to kick him in the ass.

“Hey, don’t damage the goods.” Kuroo swatted Bokuto’s foot away.

“I thought you were into that,” Hanamaki said from the floor, and got an empty water bottle thrown at him, courtesy of Kuroo.

Kageyama’s lips pulled at the corner, and he quickly hid his smile in the crook of his elbow, pulling his knees up to rest his chin. What a weird bunch.

 

 

Kageyama couldn’t wait till their first official practice after how dull school was once it started. He fell asleep at least three times in class the first week, and got lost on his way to school once, having to consult his map while waiting for what he hoped to be the right train. He hated how right his mother had been about it.

He saw the others occasionally on campus; Yaku made sure he could find all his classes and even asked him to join them for lunch, to which Kageyama declined so he could make it to his next class in time. He saw Bokuto and Kuroo probably the most out of anyone – in the halls, in the bookstore, out in the courtyard.

Normally, he wouldn’t stop, and barely greet others or even look their way. What if they didn’t see him? He’ll just pretend like he didn’t see them, that seems like the least rude option. But Bokuto was insistent on calling him over or swinging an arm around him and ask him when they were going to play again, and before Kageyama knew it, he was approaching them to talk about the upcoming season or to ask where a class was. Even if it was just for a few minutes.

He talked to Kuroo sometimes, mostly about class. Kuroo laughed when Kageyama regrettably told them he slept his whole last class and only woke up when the last person leaving nudged him.

“Don’t worry, that happened to Bo once.”

“Yeah, and you _left_ me there,” Bokuto snapped, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I left a note,” Kuroo grinned, then turned back to Kageyama, lying back in the grass. Kageyama had tucked his mouth behind his hand, propping an elbow up on one knee, and looked at him once over. The kid was a little awkward and looked uncomfortable sometimes, but he’d seemed to not mind sitting down with them lately.

“We should hang out with him,” Kuroo said once Kageyama left for class, swinging a leg lazily back and forth, propped up on his elbows.

“Yeah, I’ve been asking him to come play with us again, I wanna practice more.”

“No, not volleyball. I mean, like, actually hang out with us.” Bokuto looked at Kuroo, eyebrows bunched together. “Outside of the gym or school, y’know?”

“What, really? He doesn’t really look like the kind that’d like that.” Bokuto started pulling grass out of the ground and ripping it into tiny bits.

 “We’ll just ask; if he says no, then he says no.” Kuroo shrugged. “But we won’t know ‘till we do.”

 

 

Kageyama blinked sleepily and the clock blinked back at him. 14 minutes after 3 in the morning. If he fell asleep now, he could get four hours and forty-six minutes of sleep before he should be up.

Or he could not sleep, like he’s been doing for the last few hours, switching between staring at the ceiling, the clock, and the insides of his eyelids.

Kageyama heaved himself to his feet and rubbed at his eyes. If he wasn’t going to sleep, he could at least go for a run. He won’t go too far, and he most definitely won’t tell his mother. What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.

It’s a Saturday night, so it shouldn’t be dangerous to go out, right? People normally go out on Saturday nights, he can just run on well-lit streets and maybe in that park he found a few blocks away. No worries.

He laced up his shoes and left the building, sticking to the populated streets. It really was very different from home – cars zipped by, groups of young people filed in and out of local bars, lights in apartment windows glowed softly and signs shone in brilliant colours. For a while there, Kageyama almost forgot it was in the wee hours of the morning, when most people were asleep. He envied them, just a bit.

“Hey!” He was startled by Bokuto calling out to him and running across the street, narrowly dodging a car that leaned on its horn, and he smacked the hood and yelled back. The others followed him safely across the street. Kageyama greeted them sleepily, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his pullover.

“Out for a walk?” Kuroo asked.

“Uh, yeah,” Kageyama shuffled his feet, looking around the street. They were probably out drinking or partying or something fun, and what was he doing? Out for a walk ‘cause he can’t sleep.

“At 3 in the morning?” Yaku asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I sorta...” Kageyama sighed, rubbing his eye, “I don’t really sleep well.”

Kuroo frowned, watching Kageyama slump his shoulders. “Maybe you should go home.”

Kageyama looked at him sleepily, then down the street, and nodded slowly. “Yeah, I guess I’ll head back now.” He mumbled a small goodbye with a half-hearted wave before turning away when Bokuto caught him by the shoulder.

“Hey, if you can’t sleep, maybe next weekend you can come hang out with us?”

“Bokuto, that’s not a reason to go clubbing, and that definitely won’t help him sleep,” Yaku sighed.

“Well, it’s just if he wants to, right?”

“Wait, really?” Kageyama asked. Okay, he could understand them inviting him to play volleyball with him, especially if they needed an extra person. That was believable. But inviting him to hang out socially, and to go clubbing? Kageyama mulled it over in his head for a minute – he’d never gone clubbing before, they didn’t really have any clubs back home and no one he hung out with cared enough to take a trip out to the city to go to one. He’s gone to a bar once for Hinata’s birthday last year, maybe it was kind of the same thing, but... louder.

“Yeah, why not?” Bokuto shrugged.

Kageyama nodded earnestly the more he thought about it. Getting invited out was... not a frequent thing for him. “Yeah, okay. That sounds cool.”

Bokuto smiled and relaxed his shoulders. “Cool!”

Kuroo smiled a bit, wiping it away with his hand. “You need a cab or someone to walk you home or...?”

Kageyama shook his head, declining, before saying a quiet goodbye and heading home, a little more awake now, but, oddly enough, okay with that.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song suggestion: Judas - Lady Gaga  
> its just... a fun song for it to be playing at the club (lyrics do not apply)
> 
> Sorry this chapter is so late, I got the flu :')

“No no no, you don’t _get_ it, Kageyama,” Hinata trilled. Kageyama sighed and switched shoulders to balance his phone, half-listening and frowning at his computer screen, typing something new into his search bar. “Listen, okay, he _comes in_ at like, 11 in the morning, and he’s _so loud_. I was asleep!” Kageyama snorted, taking a little too much satisfaction at Hinata finding someone too loud.

“He throws his stuff on the bed and he’s talking like I’m not even there and – get this – he actually didn’t know I was there,” Hinata went on. “He said after he couldn’t even tell there was someone under the covers until I moved, which is when he started yelling.”

It might’ve been his search history – _clubbing, how to act at a club, what do you do at a club –_ but his search yielded nothing new, and he pursed his lips, angrily tapping his mouse to scroll through the same useless links that popped up with every new search. Maybe he should try different keywords?

“He whipped his bag at me, right, ‘cause _apparently_ he thinks university dorms have giant rats. Ridiculous right?”

He’s never been to a club, and never _really_ been invited out. What’s he supposed to do? Is there a certain way to act, or talk, or dress? Is he expected to dance cause like hell he’s doing that. Tsukishima has described his drunken bobbing to a vague beat once as him being electrocuted. Then again, that was just Tsukishima, and he was a little buzzed.

Yeah, no, he doesn’t trust himself to move to any beat ever again. Ever.

“Anyways, it turns out he’s pretty cool. He even played volleyball in high school! I’m trying to convince him to at least go out for intramurals if he’s not gonna try out for the team.”

What if he does something weird and they decide they don’t want to hang out with him anymore? First month at school and he’d already made and then lost friends, wouldn’t that be pathetic. He can already start to feel that anxiety balloon in his chest. Why’s there so much pressure on one night? Why’d he agree to this again, why couldn’t he just hang out with them for... lunch or something. Or play volleyball again, why’d he agree to _this_? He’s way far out of his element, he’s definitely gonna make a fool of himself and he’s gonna still have to play on the same team as Bokuto after he does that, it’s gonna be awkward, he’s not gonna be able to match up with him anymore.

There’s far too much riding on this one night, _holy shit_.

“Hey. Kageyama. Are you even listening?”

“What?” Kageyama snapped out of reality and back to Hinata making noises into the receiver to try and get his attention. “What, what do you want?”

Hinata huffed. “I was _talking_ about my new roommate, then you spaced. What’s up?”

Kageyama frowned, tapping the edge of his laptop before replying, “Nothing.”

There was a pause on Hinata’s end, but it seemed he wasn’t going to push the subject. “Well... like I was saying, I’m trying to get Inuoka to join intramurals so maybe we can play together.”

Kageyama chewed his lip. Hinata’s never gone out to clubs before, he knows that much, but Hinata would know more about this kind of stuff. Right...? Might know more. Should know more.

“Hey,” Kageyama interrupts Hinata’s rambling, and, surprisingly, he stops and waits attentively for Kageyama to continue. “Do you know how to like... dress? For like... a-a club?”

“A club?” Kageyama waits, tapping his fingers incessantly against his laptop, starting to regret asking such a stupid question. “Like... what kind of a club? Volleyball?”

“What? No. Idiot,” Kageyama snaps, his growing anxiety speaking for him. “I mean like. A club. Like with music and shit?”

“Wait, like. I-I’m sorry, Kageyama, hold on.” Hinata stifled a laugh before clearing his throat. Kageyama was definitely regretting it now. “Are you planning on going to one or something?”

“Does it matter, just. Just do you know or not.”

“Why you going, huh?”

“It doesn’t matter, I ju-”

“Did you get asked out already?”

“Okay, you know what.” Kageyama shut his laptop and threw it off him, letting it bounce on the bed gently and swinging his legs over the side. “Forget it.”

“No no no, Kageyama, I’m sorry, c’mon. Seriously though,” Hinata said, “there’s no real dress code or anything, just. Don’t wear sweats? And don’t wear athletic shorts. I’m not really the one to ask, though. I’d say just go in casual clothes.”

Kageyama sighed heavily, scrubbing his face with his hand and casting an uncertain glance over at his measly wardrobe hanging in the open space in the wall that the school deemed his closet. All he owned were athletic pullovers, was that not acceptable?

This was stupid he really shouldn’t be worrying about it so much, he knew that, but here he was, stepping over to his closet and grabbing the sweaters hanging there in one big armful and dumping it all on the bed. He dug around in his drawers for jeans and dumped the few pairs he had on the bed as well.

Hinata knew nothing, it was time to call on someone else. “Can we send Yachi pictures?”

“I don’t know, why?”

“I’ll talk to you later.” He hung up before Hinata could say goodbye, distracted trying to figure out what people wear. He’s never really had an eye for fashion, or... decent outfits.

He haphazardly threw a sweater over a pair of jeans and squinted, grunting in frustration when he couldn’t decide whether this was acceptable or not. He shot Yachi a quick text explaining what he was looking for and snapped a picture, sitting in his computer chair and waiting for a response, staring at his phone, leg bouncing anxiously.

Too much was riding on this.

 

 

Kageyama’s leg was bouncing as he checked his phone for the 13th time that minute. He just kept turning the screen off and on, chewing his lip and waiting for a text, but instead watching the clock on the screen change.

Yachi had tried her best with what Kageyama showed her, but he still ended up in jeans a size too big and the plainest athletic sweater he owned. She told him not to worry about it, people don’t usually notice these things. He never felt self-conscious about his wardrobe before, and he shouldn’t start now.

He unlocked his phone and swiped through the screens – no new emails, no new texts, no new anything – and turned it off again, leaning back on his hands and leaving his phone beside him on the steps to his building.

Bokuto texted him that they’d be showing up in an hour to pick him up, and that was an hour and four minutes ago.

He frowned. Maybe they forgot about him. Or maybe they decided he wouldn’t be very fun to be with or that he’d stick out or he was too uptight or maybe that he talked about volleyball a little _too_ much. Maybe the reply he sent back seemed short and curt, and he’d accidentally offended Bokuto, or maybe he came off like he didn’t want to go at all? Maybe he replied to late and Bokuto told the others that he wasn’t going, that’d make sense too, he did spend ten minutes staring at the text and typing out different replies.

Maybe he should’ve ran it by Yachi or Hinata? No, that’d seem paranoid, they’d probably tell him not to worry so much about it. So that’s what he was going to do right now, sit here and wait and not worry about it anymore.

Okay, it’s been an hour and five minutes, they’re not gonna show up. That’s fine, he’ll be fine. He can just stick to playing volleyball with them when they want to and saying hi in the hallway.

Kageyama sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair, heaving himself to his feet to go back inside. He looked like an idiot sitting here for over twenty minutes just for no one to show up. Someone could probably see him from the window. Maybe he should just go for a walk instead.

A cab lurched to a halt a little ways down from where Kageyama’d been walking and he stopped. The passenger window rolled down and Bokuto leaned out of it, smacking the outside of the door with his hand.

“Hey!” He called out. “Hop in!” He gestured with his thumb to the back seat, where Kageyama could see Kuroo and Yaku waving from inside.

Opening the door, though...

“Don’t worry, just squeeze in,” Kuroo said before turning to Yaku and ushering him to scooch over into Akaashi’s seat.

“No no no, max capacity,” the taxi driver said, waving his hands, and Bokuto groaned dramatically, throwing his head back.

“C’mon, man, it’s _one_ more person, and Yaku’s small!”

“I ain’t gettin’ a ticket for just _one_ more person.”

Kuroo hooked his arm around the passenger seat’s headrest and pulled himself forward in between the driver and Bokuto. “Look, we’ll pay you extra if you just... look the other way. This time.”

The driver paused, drumming his fingers on the wheel and looking at Kageyama in the rearview mirror.

 “ _And_ we’ll pay the ticket. _If_ you get one,” Kuroo said.

The driver finally sighed and nodded for Kageyama to get in, mumbling something under his breath, and Kuroo leaned back again, trying to make room.

Kageyama grimaced. There really wasn’t much room, and the driver looked pretty annoyed already, but they were already here and his foot was already in the car and he was already ducking his head in, so it was too late to pull out now.

He closed the door and found now, somehow, there was even _less_ room, trying to angle himself so he wasn’t squished up against Kuroo, who was already laughing a little. Yaku and Akaashi – who only offered a respectful nod in Kageyama’s direction as an introduction – didn’t look too pleased about being cramped in the back of a cab.

Kageyama shifted, using the roof to push himself further into the uncomfortable door where the handle dug into his back, trying to create just a little space between himself and Kuroo. It wasn’t normal to sit close enough to someone that their thighs touched and shoulders brushed, right? It certainly wasn’t normal to sit close enough that any little shift could land you half in someone’s lap, he was sure of that.

The car lurched forward and they took off again, and Kageyama, unprepared, lurched forward into the passenger seat. Bokuto barked out a laugh and Yaku leaned forward to smack him, but Bokuto was able to dodge and misdirect with a quick hand, snickering into his other.

“You okay there?” Kuroo asked, still laughing, either unaware of how cramped the backseat was or just didn’t care. Kageyama rubbed his forehead and scrunched his nose, nodding.

“Yeah, just fine.”

Already off to a great start.

The car took a hard turn, Kuroo catching Kageyama by his shoulders before he ended up sprawled across all three of their laps.

“Hello there.” He grinned and squeezed Kageyama’s shoulders, palms warm even through the sweater and fingertips firm in the fabric. Kageyama’s eyebrows furrowed together as he straightened up again. No seatbelt meant that might happen again, which meant he better brace himself.

Kuroo would’ve moved over farther if he could – Kageyama did look a little uncomfortable being pressed against a door, after all – but, even with Yaku, there was just not enough room for four people to sit comfortably in the back.

He didn’t mind being so close to Kageyama, he wasn’t going to deny that, but maybe next time they would just get a bigger cab.

Though this was an interesting way to get to know someone, too.

 

 

Kageyama could feel the bass thumping in his chest walking into the club, lights strobing and dancing across the sea of people. Off to one side, the bar glowed vibrant pinks and purples, the brightest thing in the room besides the washroom doors opening and closing.

It was a lot bigger than he anticipated, and any prior research didn’t warn him of how crowded it would be. Kageyama stuffed his hands in his pockets, shoulders raised and tense. Scanning the crowd of dancers, he decided there was no way he could ever feel comfortable and fit in in there, so he settled on sticking close to the bar and hoped at least one person would stay with him.

Yaku came up behind him and patted him on the back in reassurance, offering a small smile before moving past him to the bar with Akaashi. Bokuto had already ran head first into the crowd the moment they set foot in, hooting and hollering. Kageyama couldn’t say he was surprised, but... he was. More so at the ability to run in there without any hesitation, without any self-doubt, and somehow be welcomed into a rather menacing mass.

Kuroo patted Kageyama on the shoulder to draw his attention away from the dance floor, knowing how intimidating it could look to someone new, especially someone from the boonies.

“Bar?” Kuroo said loudly over the thumping bass, and Kageyama nodded. He moved his hand to the other’s back to navigate him through the sparse crowd around the bar, finding a less occupied space at one end where the others, sans Bokuto, had gathered.

Matsukawa and Hanamaki were already there, leaning against the countertop with half-empty glasses, and nodded in the general vicinity of Kuroo, and the bartender was chatting with Yaku and Akaashi. And though the lighting in here may not be the best and the bass a little disorienting, Kageyama still recognized the bartender to have a rather familiar face.

“Saeko?” Kageyama asked, and, sure enough, the woman spun around, beaming at who she saw.

“Kageyama!” She slammed her hands on the plastic counter, slowly pulsing a dim purple. “What are you doing here? And with this crowd?”

“What do you mean by ‘ _this crowd_ ’?” Kuroo asked.

“Kuroo,” she chided, pushing back off the counter, “you be careful with this kid, alright?” She turned to look at the others. “Shots?”

There was a chorus of agreement, and Kuroo turned to Kageyama. “I’m guessing you know Saeko.”

“Uh, yeah,” Kageyama said. “She’s the older sister of an old teammate. She helped us out a lot.”

“Is he bothering you?” Saeko set down a row of shot glasses on the counter.

“I’m just asking!”

Saeko turned to Kageyama and pointed at Kuroo. “You come straight to me if he ever annoys you, okay? I’ll take care of him.”

“Wha- oh, and how are you going to do that with those noodle arms of yours?” Kuroo teased.

Saeko looked taken aback. “Noodle arms?” She turned to the others, slapping her bare biceps. “I can take him, right?” Everyone nodded in unison.

Kageyama’s shoulders relaxed and his mouth quirked into a small smile watching Saeko challenge Kuroo to an arm wrestle until Yaku reminded her of their drinks (and that she was still working). Seeing a familiar face eased him and he even found himself doing that first shot with the others, knowing it would only calm his nerves more anyway.

Bokuto jumped into their corner, slinging an arm each around Kuroo and Akaashi, wearing a glow necklace and, curiously, shirtless.

“Bokuto,” Akaashi sighed, peeling his arm from around his shoulders, “where’s your shirt?”

He shrugged. “Lost it.”

“Already?” Kuroo asked, exasperated like this wasn’t the first time. Bokuto gave him a wide-eyed, innocent look and he groaned, shoving Bokuto’s face away. “Don’t give me that look.”

“Coming from you,” Bokuto swatted his hand away, “ _party god._ ”

A chorus of the ridiculous nickname rang through their small group, even above the pounding music, much to the chagrin of Kuroo, who chased Bokuto back out into the crowd of dancers and away from the chants of “party god” and laughter.

Yaku noticed Kageyama’s confused look and leaned in to speak above the noise. “First year, Kuroo and Bokuto threw a huge rager. Kuroo got really smashed, lit his shirt on fire and swung it over his head, screaming about how he was the ‘party god’, then passed out a half hour later face down on the front lawn.”

Kageyama snorted when Yaku leaned away again, shrugging. “He doesn’t really like to remember.”

“I can tell,” Kageyama said.

Matsukawa tapped Yaku’s shoulder and gestured towards the dance floor, and Yaku looked back at Kageyama, quirking an eyebrow. “You gonna go at all tonight?”

Kageyama shook his head, casting his eyes down into the remnants of his drink, not nearly comfortable enough yet to go out there. He’ll probably never be comfortable enough, he thought.

Yaku, not wanting to just leave him alone at the bar, told Matsukawa and Hanamaki to go on ahead without him.

“Don’t worry too much about it,” he told Kageyama. “Dancing’s not for everyone. How’s school going?”

Kageyama shrugged. “Okay, I guess.” What else was he supposed to say? He wasn’t exactly a model student, and this wasn’t exactly a great place for idle conversation.

“Started practice yet?” Yaku pressed and he nodded, not knowing what else to say. “I hope Bokuto’s not being too much trouble; he doesn’t have much of an off-switch, honestly.” Yaku pointed with the hand holding his glass at Akaashi, who was chatting it up with someone a ways down the bar. “Akaashi used to be his setter in high school, he’d know what you’re going through.”

Kageyama nodded politely; it wasn’t like Bokuto had been too much for him, so far. He had to deal with Hinata for the last three years, this wasn’t much of a change. Besides, he was a different person when he played volleyball – more energetic, more excited. Having someone as passionate about volleyball as Bokuto wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

His glass, now empty, however... _that_ was the worst thing at the moment. Keeping himself in a smooth and steady flow of alcohol allowed him to relax, and relaxed people don’t frown into the bottom of a glass.

Waiting for Saeko to not be busy with other patrons, Kageyama bobbed slightly to the generic beat, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He caught Kuroo’s watchful eye on the fringes of the crowd, tired from trying to keep up with Bokuto, now long lost in the depth of the crowd. It was about time he switched partners, and strangers just weren’t doing it for him tonight. Not when Kageyama was loosening up, and swaying gently to the music already. All he needed to do was get him away from the bar.

Dancing into Kageyama’s line of sight, he gestured with a curled finger for the boy to come join him. Kageyama, looking rightfully confused and a little alarmed, gave Yaku a look. Yaku looked exasperated, shooting Kageyama a look from the corner of his eye and leaning back on the bar.

Kuroo tried again, this time with an expertly executed lasso move, lassoing Kageyama and trying to pull him in. Apparently he didn’t understand, though, and just stared at Kuroo, eyebrow quirked.

“What’s he doing?” Kageyama asked, maybe just a little afraid.

Yaku sighed. “I think he wants you to dance.”

“Oh, uh, no,” Kageyama shouted over the music, waving his hands and shaking his head at Kuroo. “No, no. No thanks. I’m good.”

“Oh, come on.” Kuroo walked up to them so he didn’t have to yell over the bass. “You’re already moving to the music, see?” Kageyama stopped, now realizing he in fact was bopping along, frowning when he felt his face heat up. “All you need to do is move, like, five feet over with me.”

Kageyama pursed his lips and warily looked over at the dance floor. “No, I-. I don’t know how to dance.”

“What you were just doing, that would be considered dancing.” Not fantastic dancing, but technically, he was right. He looked at Yaku over Kageyama’s shoulder, who was giving him a warning look before rolling his eyes and turning away to talk to Saeko.

“Just do what you were doing, but five feet to the left. No big deal, right?” Kuroo smiled at the other to quell his worries; all he wanted to do was dance with him a little. “No one’s gonna be looking, anyway.”

He gently pulled Kageyama away from the bar by the waist, jeans rough against his fingertips. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the desire to actually be able to let loose and have a little fun without worrying, but Kageyama allowed Kuroo to guide him just to the edges of the dance floor, warmth spreading in his belly.

“There you go.” Kuroo grinned at the other, moving his hips gently back and forth to get him going again. Kageyama’s face burned, aware of how awkward he was moving consciously now.

Kuroo laughed light-heartedly. “You can move like it’s nothing on the court, but swaying back and forth a bit of a challenge?”

“Shut up,” Kageyama mumbled, inaudible above the thump of the bass, but his cheeks turning rosy did not go unnoticed. “Volleyball’s different, that’s natural.”

“So’s dancing,” Kuroo said, adjusting his hands to rest heavily on the boy’s waist, grip warm and firm. “Here, just follow me.”

Gently, at first, he moved Kageyama’s hips back and forth in rhythm with his own to the beat of the music. Kageyama pouted, trying to wrap his head around the movement, but he just couldn’t concentrate. Not with the press of Kuroo’s fingers into his sides, the pads of his thumbs stroking through his jeans, or the heat radiating off of him at such close proximity, or the hypnotic rhythm of Kuroo’s hips to the music, or the way he bore over Kageyama with broad shoulders and a broader grin.

Kageyama really needed to wipe his palms on his jeans, skin far too hot and just a little damp and he hasn’t even been at it for more than a few minutes.

Kuroo pulled him closer until there was virtually no room between their hips, curious where the boundaries might be. He wasn’t going to push Kageyama, and seeing how his face flushed but he still rolled with it, he didn’t think he was.

Besides, Kageyama was cute. And Kuroo was interested.

“Hey!” Bokuto bumped into Kuroo, knocking Kageyama back and the warmth from between his palms along with it. “You got him to dance! Nice!”

“Yeah, after you ditched me.” Kuroo tried to keep the irritation out of his voice, for Kageyama’s sake, but it took no time at all for embarrassment to settle back into his bones, shuffling back to the safety of the bar and leaving Kuroo and Bokuto to... do whatever.

“Bo, what. The hell.” Kuroo sighed heavily, annoyed. Bokuto stared at him, wide-eyed and innocent, and Kuroo just scoffed, shaking his head. “Go find your shirt.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yowamushitpedal.tumblr.com


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> song suggestion: Make You Feel - Alina Baraz & Galimatias

Kageyama thanked his past self for not drinking too much the night before. He’s never had a hangover, and wasn’t planning on starting now, especially at a morning practice at his new, high-profile university. Though, if anything were to cure him of a hangover, he thinks it would be the smell of freshly waxed floors and the stretch of leather in his calloused hands.

Bokuto seems as chipper and energetic as ever, though Matsukawa and Kuroo had to carry him over their shoulders the night before. Kageyama was surprised how little drinking and partying could hinder his performance.

“So,” Bokuto said, patting Kageyama on his back a little too hard while on a water break, “last night was fun. Who knew you’d actually get out there on the floor!”

Kageyama’s face pinked. He knew he shouldn’t have danced, he probably looked like an idiot. “Kuroo made me,” he mumbled, flicking the toggle on his water bottle.

“I dunno man.” Bokuto plopped himself on the bench next to Kageyama, the wood dipping. “You seemed into it.” He grinned, laughing when Kageyama noticeably reddened. “I’m just yankin’ ya, but seriously. It was fun. We might go out again tonight if you wanna join us.”

“Again?”

“Yeah, it’s Saturday, isn’t it?”

Kageyama squeezed his half empty bottle a little, listening to air wheeze in and out. He just went out last night, and he still had homework to do, plus he was planning on staying in the gym longer since it’d be free for an hour after practice.

And of course, his parents were visiting. Taking him out to dinner or something.

He... wasn’t exactly looking forward to it.

“It’s okay if you can’t; I think it’s just gonna be me, Matsukawa, and Hanamaki so far. Yaku’s got research to do or something equally boring, Akaashi’s got lab, and I think Kuroo’s working.”

Kageyama didn’t like the way his stomach dropped a little at that. “Actually,” he shut his water bottle and put it on the floor between his sneakers, “my parents are coming to see me, so I can’t.”

Bokuto wilted. “Bummer. Next time, though, right?”

Kageyama nodded, ignoring the way his chest swelled a bit at being invited out again.

 

 

 

“Where the hell is that waitress?” Kageyama’s father whipped his head around, fist clenched on the table, trying to find their waitress through the packed restaurant.

“Dear...” his mother sighed.

“No, no, it’s been a half hour since we ordered; I wanna know where our fucking food is.” He threw down his napkin on the table, pushing away and jostling the dinnerware, knives clinking against glasses and plates, before stomping away to find the poor girl.

Kageyama paid little attention to his father’s outbursts, folding and unfolding the corner of his cloth napkin until it creased before starting over deeper into the cloth. He’d said little in between the time his parents had picked him up and driven to the restaurant. Instead, he’d half-listened to his father quietly – and angrily – complain about the drive into the city, ranting about other drivers and their incompetence.

“So,” his mother sat up straight and rearranged her place setting, fussing down to the millimeter where her plate and glass were, straightening her knife, “how’s school been going?”

Kageyama shrugged, abandoning the napkin folding to place his hands in his lap instead and looked around the restaurant, glancing over the other patrons all speaking in one loud mess of indistinguishable words, a mass independent unto itself. Didn’t he hear somewhere about the world’s largest organism being a fungus, all connected underground, but above the soil they looked separate. He’d switched the channel almost immediately after, thoroughly disgusted – fungus was disgusting, and the thought of one being miles long had forced his hand to pick up the remote.

“Keeping up with your classes?” He turned back to his mother and nodded.

“How’s volleyball going?” she pressed, trying to just get anything out of him – volleyball always seemed to work.

“Good,” he said. “It’s just been practice, though.” There we go. “We had one practice match, but I didn’t even get to play much...” Kageyama frowned down at his empty plate. He only got to play one full rotation before they pulled him off again. He understood that he wasn’t their main setter, and that the team had a lot of members, but he’d been itching to play an actual match and had barely been satiated with what he got.

His mother nodded, unsure of what to say. He knew it was hard for her to relate to him, especially when it came to volleyball, and it didn’t matter much to him. He never expected to be close with his parents.

“It’s not getting in the way of your schoolwork, then.” He shook his head, sighing inwardly, picking up his knife to rub the flat side of the cool blade with his thumb, leaving little smudges. “You need to maintain a good average to stay on the team, and in the school, you know.”

“I know,” he mumbled. Ever since he got the scholarship every single conversation boiled down to him _needing_ to maintain his average, he _can’t_ lose his scholarship, volleyball and everything else came _second_ to his marks, despite volleyball being the reason he even _got_ the scholarship in the first place.

It was getting to the point that all he could think about in class was the nagging voices of his parents telling him to do well, pay attention, don’t screw up, and all he could think about in volleyball practice is to not practice too much, gotta go home and do that reading, don’t screw up. He couldn’t focus on the actual tasks at hand, and it was keeping him up at night, like he needed anything else to do that.

“Hon...” His mother put her hand on his knee, bringing him out of his growing swirl of frustration, and he looked down at it, like it was a foreign object. “Don’t worry too much about it. If you put in the work, you’ll do fine. We know you can work hard, we’ve seen you do it with volleyball. Just... apply yourself to your books.”

Like he hadn’t done that before, like he hadn’t been doing that for _years_ , he just wasn’t _good_ at studying. He worked his ass off for disappointing marks and his dad scolding him, saying he couldn’t be working hard enough, so why bother. He hated studying, it didn’t interest him and he couldn’t focus for long enough, and his marks _never_ reflected the work he’d put into it like it did with volleyball so why bother?

His mother’s hand squeezed his knee a bit and she smiled at him. The feeling was... odd, and he pursed his lips, unable to look at his mom’s gentle, reassuring smile. It felt unfamiliar.

His father sat back down at the table, sighing heavily, picking up his napkin and tucking it back in the collar of his shirt. His mother withdrew her hand quickly and discreetly, sitting straight in her chair again. Kageyama followed her lead. His father wasn’t a fan of proximity or affection, _especially_ in public.

“I talked to the kitchen staff,” he began, sliding his chair back into the table. “They tried to use the excuse that they’re ‘busy’ and ‘backed-up’. I told them they’d have to hurry up or we’re going to leave and complain to the owner. That should speed things up.”

Kageyama’s mother shot him a look from the side of her eye, a playful “he’ll never learn” look, mixed with a little worry.

“Any marks yet?” His father asked.

“No, we’re a month in.” He gave Kageyama a sharp look. “I-I just mean we haven’t done any tests yet. Just readings.”

His father scoffed, barely accepting that answer. “You haven’t been shirking your responsibilities for volleyball have you?” Kageyama shook his head, and two servers glided over with their food. “Good,” he told Kageyama, the servers placing the plates in front of them, but his father never broke his stern gaze. “You know better than to throw this scholarship away, right?”

Kageyama nodded, looking down at his food.

Mushrooms. Disgusting.

 

 

 

Kageyama stuffs his clothes in the machine, barely separating anything. All he wears are monotones and jeans anyway – nothing’s going to run. He sat back in one of the plastic salmon chairs, the one without the stuffing and sawdust spilling out in between the cracks. The lights flickered dimly against the sickly foam green walls. Quiet, dull music playing gently over the one speaker that still worked in the laundromat, and he quickly lost himself in the hypnotizing swirl of suds and clothes.

The gentle tumbling and hum of the machine as it fully cleans his clothes is oddly... soothing. It’s monotonous, and he can drift further and further from his thoughts of his parents and school and even volleyball for a bit, his eyes tracking his shirts dancing in the door’s window.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, barely pulling him out of his much needed reverie, his short break from thinking. He pulled it out of his pocket and unlocked it.

_I see you_ , it reads. Kageyama returned to his body fully now, a little alarmed at the vaguely ominous message, trying and failing to discreetly look around the laundromat at the other patrons – another young man bobbing to the music on his headphones, and a little old lady delicately folding her clothes, smoothing out the wrinkles. He checks the message again and feels relief gently lapping at his feet when he realizes it’s from Kuroo. He doesn’t frequently text Kuroo, and forgot for a brief moment they even exchanged numbers a few weeks ago. In case he had any questions about class, of course.

His phone buzzed in his hand again before he could even process the first message, another popping up beneath the other. _Across the street._

Kageyama furrowed his brows before twisting around in his seat to look out the large window that took up the entire wall facing the street, scarcely able to make out the tall silhouette of Kuroo through his own brightly lit reflection in the glass. He could just barely see Kuroo waving, lit cigarette in hand flashing back and forth, a trail of smoke zig-zagging through the air under the dimly glowing sign of the bar he stood in front of. Kageyama gave a small wave back.

_Exciting saturday night huh,_ his phone buzzed again, and he smirked, scoffing as he typed out his own response, inspired though it may be.

_Yeah._

_What, no other plans?_ , his phone buzzed. He typed out another reply, _No, you?_ He watched through the window as Kuroo looked down at his phone, perching his cigarette between his lips to type out another.

_Work._

_Looks like you’re hard at work,_ Kageyama typed out, watching Kuroo’s shoulders rise and fall with what he hoped was laughter before Kuroo tucked his phone back in his pocket, putting out his cigarette on the sidewalk with his heel.

Oh. Maybe he didn’t think it was so funny. Kageyama was never too good at joking, always came off too serious, no one ever got them, just thought he was kind of a jerk. He frowned at his phone, beginning to type out another response explaining himself before the door to the laundromat rang and Kuroo walked in, shooting a bright grin at Kageyama. He tucked his phone away quickly.

“Doing laundry on a Saturday at 11? You must really have had nothing better to do.”

Kageyama shook his head with a shrug as Kuroo sat down next to him. “Doesn’t matter,” he began, “it’s not like I can sleep anyway. May as well do something productive, and now’s a good time to do laundry; no one’s even here.”

“You still can’t sleep?” Kuroo furrowed his brows, leaning forward to better look at the other. “You talked to someone about that?”

Kageyama shrugged and rubbed his eye with a curled hand, pulling away to see if anything was rubbed out. Unsurprisingly, the Sand Man didn’t pay him a visit. “It’s fine. I’m used to it.”

“That can’t be very good...” Kuroo mumbled, leaning back in his seat again. A tense silence filled the space between them. Kuroo found it a bit worrisome that Kageyama never seemed to sleep when they saw each other out at night, but didn’t want to press it much further right now. The kid clearly seemed tired and like he didn’t want to talk about it.

“Bo said something earlier about you having dinner with your parents or something?” Kuroo asked instead.

“Oh, uh.” Kageyama scratched at the back of his neck. “Yeah.”

“How’d that go?”

Kageyama snorted, stuffing his hands in the pocket of his pullover.

“Ah.” Kuroo nodded and looked at his hands in his lap, finger tips pressed together. “Don’t get along with them, I’m guessing?”

“It’s not that,” Kageyama sighed, rubbing his eye again, with his whole palm this time. “It’s just. There’s a lot.”

“Of...?” Kuroo pressed when it seemed like Kageyama wasn’t going to continue on his own. Kageyama sighed heavily, slumping a little in his seat.

“Pressure? I guess? They... They just expect more from me than I’m capable of, y’know.” Kuroo nodded, not wanting to interrupt Kageyama. The other seemed too tired to care to stop, and like he needed to get it all out anyway. “The scholarship’s kind of more a pain in my ass than it is a blessing. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for it, I just...” Kageyama trailed off, tucking his chin into the collar of his sweater, glaring at the cracked tiles ahead of them.

“It’s just a lot to maintain, right?” Kuroo prompted, earning him a dejected nod.

“My parents expect too much, and I don’t want to let them down again. Not with this. It’s too big a thing.”

Another silence fell over them. Kuroo got the impression weeks ago that Kageyama wasn’t the most... apt student, and that he was here on a sports scholarship, but beyond that, he didn’t know much. He never gave it much thought, what kind of pressure the boy might be under.

He sat up straight and patted Kageyama’s knee heavily. “Well, that can’t be helped. How your parents feel, I mean.” Kageyama stared at the hand on his knee, nose just barely poking above the collar of his sweater, trailing his eyes back up to the other to give him a quizzical look. “It sucks, of course. But... you’re your own person, you’re going to do and accomplish what you can, on your own terms.” Kuroo looked at him, and Kageyama found himself untucking his chin and sitting up a little straighter. “I know having them up your ass about it probably isn’t a huge help, and the least they could do is be proud of what you’ve already managed and who you are. I mean, you _did_ get a sports scholarship to school, and, honestly, we’re not even a shit school. We’re a damn good school. You’ve already accomplished _a lot_ , and you should be proud of that. Give yourself a little more credit. You’re already doing a lot, and, I dunno,” Kuroo shrugged, unable to look Kageyama directly in the eye for what he wanted to say, choosing to stare at a decrepit soda machine instead. A foreign experience for him, not being able to look someone in the eye. He didn’t know what to make of it, and chose to ignore it for the time being. “I’d be proud of you.”

Kageyama’s eyes brightened, completely untucked from his sweater now and sitting up straight enough that his ass was at least back on the seat.

Kuroo shrugged, remembering his hand was on the other’s knee, removing it to scratch lightly at his neck. “What can I say, though. I don’t know your parents, or your relationship with them.”

Maybe it was that deep set blue that the kid had to his eyes. It was sharp and could be unsettling to others, but it was far too deep and far too... much for Kuroo.

“Thanks,” Kageyama said quietly, looking away again to play with the strings of his sweater.

Kuroo nodded in acknowledgement, glancing at the clock on the wall and sighing, heaving himself to his feet. “Break’s almost over, I better get back.” Kageyama watched him get up, not really wanting Kuroo to leave so soon, but it couldn’t be helped. Kuroo turned back around. “If you ever need to talk, you can always talk to me. If you want. I swear I can just listen sometimes; I don’t always go on about shit.” He offered Kageyama a half smile, and, to his surprise, earned a small one back.

“Thanks.” Kageyama nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

They mumbled some quick goodbyes, the door ringing with his departure. Across the street, right before entering the bar again, Kuroo looked back through the window of the laundromat. Kageyama gave another small wave through the glass, and Kuroo found himself untucking his hand from his jeans to wave back, smiling to himself.

Oh fuck.

 

 

 

“What, so you like him now?” Bokuto asked, a knowing grin stretched across his face and an eyebrow raised. A look Kuroo wasn’t unfamiliar with, but hated nonetheless. “Damn, Kuroo, you dance with him once and you’re already gay.”

“Shut up.” Kuroo whipped one of the couch pillows at Bokuto’s face. “I just think he’s cute.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Bokuto leaned back on his hands, stretching his legs under their coffee table. “When he’s not frowning so much, he’s not bad.”

Kuroo shoveled their take-out noodles in his mouth, wordlessly returning to whatever was playing on TV.

“So,” Bokuto began, swinging his foot back and forth under the table. Here we go again. “Didjya think about him when you were sucking me off last night?”

Kuroo choked a bit. “Wh-“

Bokuto gasped. “Did you think about him when _I_ was sucking _you_ off?! That hurts, man!”

Kuroo whipped the last remaining couch cushion at Bokuto. “I was not, shut up. Although now...”

“Dude! I’m right here, how could you?” Bokuto whipped one of the pillows back but Kuroo caught it with one hand, balancing the takeout container in the other.

“Relax, I’m kidding. It was a joke.” Bokuto still pouted, shifting to sit with his back to the couch now, reaching up blindly. Kuroo handed him the takeout container without being asked.

“Still, man,” Bokuto said through a mouthful of noodles, eyes trained on the quiet television, “don’t you think it’s too early to tell?” Kuroo shrugged, though Bokuto couldn’t see him, stretching himself across the couch and propping his head in a hand.

It’s not like he didn’t like Kageyama, but maybe it was too early to tell. And things could definitely get weird if he pursued anything. Did he really want to risk Kageyama not wanting to hang out with them anymore? He liked the kid’s company, believe it or not, so, for the time being, he’ll just wait it out. Ignore it.

Either way, Bokuto dropped the subject, much to Kuroo’s relief, choosing to fill his mouth with the rest of Kuroo’s noodles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And mb kuroos single noodle later ;))))
> 
> as always v special thanks to kita my resident kuroo expert for when i get stuck  
> and boy did i get stuck this chapter
> 
> talk to me abt krkg on tumblr @yowamushitpedal


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> song suggestions:   
> Another Word For Love - Late Night Alumni  
> Move On - Garden City Movement
> 
> ok sorry this is rly late but school and life and :') also i had to rewrite a scene like three times, but have this extra long chapter to make up for it

Breathe in deep through the nose; hold. Pressing his forehead to the ball, fingering the stitching, Kageyama pushed all thoughts to the edge. The talking, cheering, squeaking of sneakers against the freshly waxed floors, out. Just him, the ball, and his steadying heartbeat.

Breathing out, he leapt forward, tossing the ball up, letting it lift off from his fingertips. He took his steps, one, two, taking off from the court to jump up and strike the ball hard, slamming on the other side of the court.

"Nice!" Bokuto and a few other members clapped Kageyama on the back, impressed by the serve. It felt good to him, his palm stinging satisfyingly, but he still feels like he could do better. Maybe he'd stick around to practice a bit more after.

Serves were one of his favourite things to practice. While there wasn't quite a satisfaction he got from it the same way he did with his pinpoint setting, there was a stillness Kageyama achieved right before a particularly good serve. It was the quiet before the thunder of the ball landing across the court.

In that one breath, in that one strike, he could channel all the growing frustration and drive it into the opponent's court, turn his anxiety and stress into a victory.              

In addition, their first official match was coming up in about a month, and Kageyama would do anything to be on the starting lineup, or at the very least on the bench. If he worked hard enough, proved his place, then maybe he could. He may be on a scholarship due to his achievements, but he hadn’t proved his place just yet.

While the others were cooling down, Kageyama asked the coach if he could stay for a little longer.

"Hmm," the coach tapped his chin with his clipboard in contemplation, eyeing Kageyama, straight as a board. He sighed. "Fine. But twenty minutes,” he warned. “Don’t overwork yourself, I’ll have your ass if you pull somethin’."

Kageyama nodded earnestly, pleasantly surprised he was given permission. As he was running off, the coach swatted him on the rear with the clipboard before yelling "Alright! Time to cool down!"

He grabbed a cart and started to collect volleyballs, letting the others know not to worry, he’d be using them.

University was certainly different – his classes were more boring and more time-consuming, doing his best to just keep on top of all his readings and work. And volleyball... for the first time since middle school, Kageyama is not a regular and has to watch the others play from the bleachers.

Volleyball was one of his greatest stress busters, and the closest he can get to playing a real, competitive game is by playing with the Bokuto, Kuroo, and the others on the weekend, and even that – while fun – was hardly a real game.

Bokuto patted him hard on the back on his way out, grinning, and Kageyama waved as the other backed out the gym doors.

Sometime over the last few weeks, Kageyama had developed a bit of a friend crush on the group. They invited him out enough that he dared to hope they already were friends, and eagerly awaited every invitation. He caught himself approaching them on campus and even messaging a few of them first.

He didn’t know Matsukawa or Hanamaki very well – they’ve waved at him before, and sent him a few weird videos, but that was about it. They were very odd, so he didn’t expect to click with them, but they were also very relaxed, so he didn’t mind. He wasn’t very close with Akaashi either, mostly just talking about setting, especially in regards to Bokuto. He enjoyed their conversations.

Yaku invited him to lunch once in a while, but he talked too much about school, asking how his classes went, how he was eating (the campus food was either inedible or the wait was too long). He was nice, but a tad overbearing, so Kageyama wasn’t terribly bothered by the fact they only hung out a few times a week.

Bokuto was a whirlwind. Sure, Kageyama was used to Hinata’s limitless energy, but Bokuto was that and so much more. According to Kuroo, the guy hardly rested and had a wide range of friends, always out and about.

“Sometimes he just crashes,” Kuroo sighed, pursing his lips. “Believe it or not, he overworks himself.”

Kageyama stared at him, baffled. Kuroo laughed. “It’s surprising, but he’s actually a top student. And he’s stupid popular, too, so...” He shrugged.

Kageyama furrowed his brows, watching Kuroo. “Does that... bother you?”

“Oh, no, no way,” Kuroo said. “Well... not in the way you might think... It’s cool he’s got friends and he’s doing well. I’ve known the guy since we were kids, he’s never been that... academically bright. But he’s really good with numbers and shit, and he really loves engineering.”

Kageyama nodded, picking at some pills on his sweater cuff. “Do you like what you do?”

Kuroo flashed him a genuine smile, reeling it back halfway. Kageyama felt his neck flush. “I like it, yeah.”

Maybe his crush on Kuroo was a little more than just friendly. He'd spent far too much time dreaming of rough, warm hands and a perfect row of teeth just visible behind an amused quasi smile than what he assumed friends did, late at night when he couldn't sleep and the stucco of his ceiling grew boring.

Maybe he liked Kuroo.

But it wasn't anything major, nothing big enough to even entertain, let alone act on. Kageyama still felt like he was on a trial friendship with the group, only joining them in their Saturday nights a few times after that first outing. Still, dancing with Kuroo had proved fun, especially in the smaller, more packed clubs where they were forced closer together. Kuroo would yell some lame line in Kageyama's ear over the pounding base and he'd snicker into Kuroo's shoulder, trying and failing to keep composure, especially after a couple drinks.

It was lame, and he bit the inside of his cheek just thinking about it. But Kuroo was good company, and Kageyama had come to enjoy it both in and out of clubs - whether it be on campus at lunch, or even a few text conversations back and forth where he would lie on his bed, textbooks abandoned on his desk, quietly smiling to himself when Kuroo would message him, laughing a little at whatever story (usually about Bokuto's antics) he'd be telling him.

And the dancing was... surprisingly something he not only agreed to, but might even look forward to. Kuroo'd taught him how to properly move his body in rhythm with the music, something he never thought he'd see accomplished or find himself enjoying, but here he was, back pressed against Kuroo’s chest and just allowing himself to let loose. Just a little.

Maybe he liked Kuroo.

Just a little.

 

 

 

Kuroo watched Bokuto ever so carefully place another Jenga block on his impossible tower. He’d somehow managed to balance the other 53 blocks on the tip of one, fanning out in an interlocking pattern he felt dizzy just looking at.

Considering this was the same person that had turned to him ten minutes earlier with a jug of milk asking, “Think I can chug the whole thing in thirty seconds?”, this was an incredible feat.

He had to spend far too long convincing Bokuto that not only could he _not_ chug the whole thing, he’d get sick at best, die at worst. Also, don’t waste all the milk.

Bokuto let out a little breath and made an “are you impressed yet?” noise at Kuroo, who was sitting on the other side of the kitchen counter, textbook open but long forgotten. He picked up another block, shaking his hands out like his sleeves were getting in the way. If he was wearing a shirt. Or anything at all, for that matter, except for white tube socks pulled up comically high, considering his state of undress.

It was the last one, and to Kuroo’s horror, he found himself emotionally invested in the placing of the final block. He was _supposed_ to be studying – like he had been all week – rereading some old passages to refresh his memory for an upcoming paper, but instead he was sitting in his apartment on a Saturday afternoon, watching his naked roommate make an impossible Jenga tower. With _anticipation_.

Bokuto carefully placed the last block on the top of the tower, sticking straight up like a flag at the top of a tower. An engineer’s tower, clearly.

Bokuto let out a laugh, breathy. “Nice, huh?” He stood proudly behind his project, hands on his hips. “And you said I couldn’t do it.”

“That was with the milk, Bo.”

Bokuto clapped his hands together, throwing his head back. “Right! That’s right. I still think I can do it. I’m gonna do it.”

Kuroo sighed, warning the other, watching as Bokuto leapt for the fridge, but slipped in his socks and wiping out hard on the kitchen floor. His tower went with him.

The first thing that crossed Kuroo’s mind was _haha Freudian slip..._ and that’s when he knew.

“Oh my god,” he said, burying his face in his hands and rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. “I need a break.”

He grabbed his phone off the counter, ignoring Bokuto’s groaning from where he couldn’t see, and sent off a quick text to the only person he thinks that could save him from the mundane textbook and weird roommate.

_You busy?_

Kageyama’s phone buzzed on his nightstand and he grabbed it, biting the inside of his cheek to fight the smile and little leap his stomach did when he saw who it was from. Stupid.

_Not really. Studying. What’s up?_

_Wanna come over?_

Kageyama frowned. _I thought we were all meeting up later?_

_Need a break_ , Kuroo shot him, following it up with a picture of Bokuto lying face down on the floor, covered in sporadic Jenga blocks, mindful to not include his bare ass in the photo.

Kageyama choked, muffling his laugh in the crook of his arm, despite being alone in his room. _When and where._

Kuroo texted him his address, slamming his textbook shut and flicking a remaining Jenga block off the counter and on Bokuto.

“Get dressed, we’re having company.”

 

 

 

It’d been nerve-wracking for Kageyama, at first. He considered a true friendship to start when you were invited over to someone’s home – after all, he hadn’t had any real friends in elementary or middle school, and was never invited over to any of his classmate’s houses, so he considered this to be a pretty big deal. Stupidly big. Stomach churning, hands itching big.

But as it turned out, it had been a pretty relaxing afternoon. Save for watching Bokuto switch between doing curls with the milk jug and taking swigs from it (and swallowing his repulsion – he never thought he could look at milk disgusted), it was pretty pleasant. Kuroo seemed happy for him to be there and distract him from studying, and the thought made his chest swell and sit up straighter, if only to give the butterflies in his stomach more room.

They’d settled on cards, after Kuroo quickly shot down Jenga, and spent the next few hours playing and talking. A warmth spread in Kageyama’s belly – maybe those butterflies caught fire. There were few people that he felt completely comfortable around, and at first, he’d been skeptical about these two. Excitable, overly-friendly, confident; he thought they’d be too much to bear and he’d be able to quietly slip into obscurity once they were too distracted, but their persistence and easy-going nature had been welcoming, especially in moments like this.

“You know what’d make this better?” Bokuto asked, putting down an eight of hearts.

“No,” Kuroo said, not even looking up from his hand.

Bokuto ignored him. “Strip poker.”

“No, Kageyama’s here.” He put down a jack.

“Oh, come on, he doesn’t mind, right Kageyama?” Bokuto grinned at Kageyama, and he wilted just a little. Now _that_ seemed like a bit much, especially in front of Kuroo. Bokuto, however, was nothing new. He learned quickly that Bokuto did not enjoy being dressed – apparently the whole team had known, and had grown used to it. Kageyama had been spared seeing the other fully nude, thankfully.

“Stop.” Kuroo flicked a discarded joker at Bokuto’s head. “You’re making him uncomfortable.” Bokuto looked wide-eyed at Kuroo, then at Kageyama, who could only reply with a shrug of the shoulders and his attempt at a watery smile, but all it did was make Bokuto snicker.

“Alright, alright, no need to look like you’re going to shit yourself.” Kageyama frowned, throwing down a three of hearts.

Kuroo’s mouth quirked on one side. The kid did have a weird forced smile, but it was funny and just a little cute how hard he tried. But only a little. His pout was kinda cute, too, especially the way his lower lip stuck out and his brows bunched together, like they were doing right now. Kageyama would be a terrible poker player...

Kuroo’s phone buzzed at that moment and he leaned to grab it, paying no mind to the way Bokuto leaned over him to read the message, too. Kageyama sat quietly, shuffling his cards in his hand and watching the two.

“Matsukawa’s asking if we all wanna meet up at Jonathan’s tonight before we go out.”

Bokuto folded his arms over the small of Kuroo’s back and rested his chin on them, sighing dramatically. “I could go for a burger.”

“How ‘bout you?” Kuroo nodded at Kageyama. “Wanna grab something to eat?”

For the first time in a while, the thought of food – especially a meal – had totally slipped his mind. In fact, everything outside of this living room right here and right now had totally slipped his mind, including the fact that they were all supposed to go out tonight.

Kageyama nodded earnestly, punctuated with a rather loud growl from his stomach. You’d think butterflies would be more filling. Especially when they seemed to increase tenfold when Kuroo grinned at him like that before replying to Matsukawa.

They finished their game while waiting for the cab to arrive. Bokuto celebrated when they let him win without his knowledge, and Kuroo and Kageyama shared a look of exasperation, though Kuroo’s smirk and wink gave it away.

When the cab arrived, Kuroo nudged Bokuto to the front seat and joined Kageyama in the back. It wasn’t as crowded as usual with only three of them and the driver, and he may have missed the contact, being pressed up against Kageyama’s thigh, shoulders nudging when they tried to give each other more room.

But this was fine too.

The rest of the gang had already piled themselves in a booth at the diner and waved them over. Bokuto scooted himself in next to Akaashi, forcing Hanamaki and Matsukawa to squish into the corner, not like they seemed to mind. Kuroo slid in next to Yaku on the other side, shuffling over to make room for Kageyama next to him, stretching his arms across the back of the bench seat.

“Took you long enough,” Hanamaki grumbled, sipping on his complimentary water that did little to satisfy his growing hunger.

“You could’ve ordered without us, not a big deal,” Kuroo said.

“We _would_ have, but Yaku wouldn’t let us.”

Yaku pounded his fist on the cheap plastic table. “It’s rude to order before everyone’s here!”

Matsukawa sat up on the back of the seat and waved down a waitress, thoroughly done with waiting to order, and the arguments came to a complete halt the second she stepped over, licking the tiny golf pencil and putting it to paper.

“So,” Bokuto said, leaning forward on the table once they’d all ordered, “what’d we miss?”

“Just Yaku telling us about his date last night.” Matsukawa leaned into the corner of the booth, grinning when Yaku grimaced, glaring at him.

Bokuto ooh’d and shuffled closer in his seat.

“Aww, is our little Yaku growin’ up and getting himself a girlfriend?” Kuroo grinned and tried to rub the other’s head, only to be shoved away angrily.

“Shut up, it was one date and nothing happened, so _stop_.”

Kageyama sat quietly, listening to the others bicker and defend themselves against accusations of being seen in the same clothes from the night before. He just had nothing to contribute, and maybe he didn’t know them well enough to actually jump in to the conversation. They were all like cogs in a machine, running smoothly together, and Kageyama felt like a wrench being thrown into their works. So he kept to himself.

“Oh, come on, do you guys remember that exchange student that Akaashi dated,” Yaku complained.

“Oh, yeah, yeah! It’s like he stepped out of a bad European art film,” Hanamaki said.

“Hey.” Akaashi stopped just as his glass was about to reach his lips. “He was cultured. Unlike you guys...” He mumbled the last part.

“What about you?” Bokuto asked Kageyama. He was caught off guard by the question and suddenly being included in their organized chaos. “You dated anyone?”

“Oh, uh.” He worried his hands under the table, out of everyone’s sight. “Yeah, last year.”

“Oh yeah? What were they like?” Now Kageyama had the whole table’s undivided attention as they waited for his answer, what terrible ex or embarrassing stories he had to share, their curiosity thoroughly piqued. Kageyama swallowed hard.

He knew that he shouldn’t be nervous; it’s not like any of them had any grounds to judge him for dating a boy, seeing as he knew at least some of them weren’t straight, but his gut still knotted.

“Uh, he...” Kageyama cleared his throat, “h-he was okay.”

His discomfort did not go unnoticed, though he tried his best to hide it, as per usual. Kuroo caught on, sliding his arm off the arm rest and on Kageyama’s shoulder, shaking him lightly.

“No worries.” He smiled at Kageyama, squeezing his shoulder, mercifully unaware of how the other grew rigid and hot under his touch. “Honestly, we’re all pretty gay here.” The others nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, except maybe Yaku,” Bokuto said.

Yaku launched himself across the table but Bokuto blocked his incoming smack with an arm. “Shut up, I have a _preference._ ”

“You won’t even give me a shot!” Bokuto wailed. “I’m good, right guys?” There was a chorus of half-hearted noises and so-so hand gestures from everyone else at the table, much to Kageyama’s surprise. “Oh, shut up, what do you guys know. Let Yaku decide for himself.” He hammered home his point with an exaggerated wink. Yaku deadpanned.

“I’m out of here.” He climbed over the back of the seat in an attempt to escape.

“Aw, come on.”

“We love you, Yaku!”

“Don’t, you’re our token straight friend!”

Yaku would’ve taken off his shoe to whip it at Matsukawa’s head for that comment, but decided against doing it in a public setting. Instead, he left to go to the restroom.

Once the laughter died down, and the food arrived, Kageyama tuned out a bit to dig in. His nerves earlier had masked his hunger, but he wasn’t known as the boy with a wooden leg for nothing. Kuroo watched in amusement and amazement as he watched Kageyama stuff his cheeks like a long winter was just around the corner.

“Oh,” Matsukawa said, spitting bits of food over Hanamaki who wiped it off in disgust, “Bo. Guess who I ran into today.” Bokuto nodded in his direction to indicate continuing. “Remember that DJ you slept with?”

“Oh yeah! Foot fetish! Yeah, I remember him.”

Kuroo recoiled, making a face. “Ew, we’re eating, can you not talk about your weird fetishes.”

“It’s not mine!” Bokuto argued.

“And who are you to talk, Kuroo,” Akaashi said dryly, picking at his fries with a fork. Kuroo could feel the storm brewing and blanched, praying silently that Akaashi would show a little mercy. Not in front of Kageyama.

He was not spared. “You enjoy the taste of other people’s assholes.”

Kageyama choked on his food and Kuroo went red, flicking a fry at Akaashi and trying to laugh off his embarrassment. He had a high threshold for embarrassment, but he found himself longing to go join Yaku in hiding in a bathroom stall with how hard Kageyama was trying to focus on his food and his obvious discomfort with having to sit next to a goddamn ass-licker.

Bringing him around this bunch was a mistake.

 

 

 

Kageyama forgot about the little over-sharing over dinner by the time they all started frequenting the local clubs, not like the subject matter had bothered him that much, it was just a bit... personal. In fact, it did the opposite of disgust him, but he waved that thought from his mind the second he made a bee-line for the bar, needing at least a few drinks before he could even think about prying himself away from the safety of the bar.

Matsukawa and Hanamaki kept him company, and he got to know them a little better. After revealing themselves to have once gone to Aoba Johsai, the conversation really picked up. He knew he recognized them vaguely.

They were strange, but kind and chill, and Kageyama found relaxing and enjoying just talking and drinking for once.

“You still trying after Akaashi told him you like licking ass?” Bokuto said, appearing next to Kuroo on the other side of the small club. Kuroo shoved him.

“Don’t bring that up,” he grumbled.

Bokuto shrugged. “He would’ve found out eventually, right?” Kuroo shoved him again, harder this time, but on the ricochet Bokuto just gave him a sloppy kiss on the cheek before dashing off into the crowd, patting an approaching Yaku on the shoulder.

Kuroo didn’t even notice he had company after he’d wiped his cheek clean, enamoured with watching Kageyama snigger at whatever terrible story Matsukawa was telling him. Hopefully not about himself. He couldn’t take another hit tonight.

Yaku watched Kuroo with mild disgust till Kuroo finally noticed him. “What?”

“Don’t. Don’t even start with this, Kuroo.”

“What, I’m not doing anything.”

“I know you and I know that look, don’t start with me here.” Kuroo waved him off. He didn’t know anything. What look? He wasn’t even giving any kind of look.

Yaku, however, was. An awfully mean stink eye that Kuroo most certainly did _not_ want to start with, and he shuffled away to join the others.

Kageyama had been a few drinks in by now, letting his awkwardness and anxiety drip off his skin like a bad fever he’s constantly plagued with. And his more friendly attitude did not go unnoticed by the others as they hopped from club to club over the next few hours, expertly avoiding the notoriously terrible or outlandishly expensive ones.

It wasn’t until the wee hours of the morning, in their tipsy stupor, the group began their trek along the nightlife strip, no plans to enter any more bars but the end of their Saturday night still not in sight.

Kuroo held his alcohol a little better than Kageyama, he thought as he lit up a much needed cigarette. Yaku was lecturing Bokuto on the fact that they _just_ ate not that long ago, no they weren’t going to go looking for a fast food joint still open, and Matsukawa was arguing with Akaashi on the meaning of rosebud from _Citizen Kane_ , but Kuroo and Kageyama were quiet at the back of the group.

Kuroo watched the other from the corner of his eye, taking a long drag from his cigarette, but Kageyama was unusually focused on their feet. He stumbled over his own as he tried to time their steps in beat, but Kuroo’s few centimeters on him and his wits still about him gave him an advantage.

It was funny how hard the kid was focusing and trying, and he grinned to himself when he their steps aligned, doing a stuttering hop to change his feet so their steps were reversed.

It was terrible how his smile grew when Kageyama looked at Kuroo’s feet in awe, like it’d been magic and not a simple trick his father taught him to change his step, laughter bubbling out of his chest when Kageyama turned those wide eyes on him.

How tipsy was this kid?

“Hey!” Bokuto called out, ignoring Yaku and pulling himself up on a wood fence to peer over. The rest came to a halt. “There’s a pool on the other side of this fence!” He hopped back down and looked eagerly at the others, like a child begging his mother to let him buy a new toy.

“Bokut-”

“Let’s go swimming!” Bokuto cut Akaashi off, looking to the others for approval.

“It’s private property.” Yaku pointed to the sign.

“It’s a motel,” Bokuto said, waving Yaku off. Without waiting for any more of a reply, he was already climbing up over the fence and hopping down on the other side. Matsukawa and Hanamaki gave each other a look before shrugging and giving in, heaving themselves over the fence and joining Bokuto.

To the other’s surprise, Kageyama was the next to step up and climb over. His decision, albeit influenced by a few drinks, was what made the others join him, Yaku huffing and complaining under his breath while Kuroo helped him up and over.

The water danced with violets, reflections of the neon signs of the motel they were trespassing on. Akaashi had immediately bypassed the pool to lounge in a worn plastic beach chair, watching as Bokuto struggled to take off all his clothes at the exact same time and try not to fall in the pool.

“At least use the cabana,” Yaku groaned.

Kageyama had clearly not drank enough to dress down in front of the others – one in particular. So he tried the cabana wedged in the corner of the pool area, but found it was locked. He may not have been surprised – he wasn’t _that_ far gone – but he still got his hopes up.

Kuroo gave him a reassuring pat on the back, in hopes it would stop him from gently thumping his head against the door. Bokuto had already wrestled off his pants (“For the love of god, keep your boxers on!”), and wasn’t exactly who he wanted to see do that, but at this point he’d learned that around Bokuto, expect him to try to strip down to next to nothing. If you’re lucky.

But even if he wanted Kageyama to join in on their spontaneous pool party, if the guy was uncomfortable, then Kuroo most certainly not pressure him into it.

However, he... kind of wanted to go for a dip. Bokuto’s influence was strong and far-reaching – only Akaashi had the iron-clad willpower of resisting, and even _he_ had moved to the edge to ease his legs into the water. So it was time Kuroo closed the gap in the strip race Bokuto was currently leading.

The amount of alcohol in Kageyama’s system wasn’t enough to drown out his unease, but it was enough for him to openly stare as Kuroo peeled his shirt off and revealed an expanse of inked, tawny skin, intricate designs woven across his chest and creeping down his upper arms. Kageyama felt his cheeks grow hot.

Allowing his traitorous eyes to trail down the stretch of Kuroo’s chest, past a taut tummy, and to the darkening trail of hair that disappeared beneath the waistband of his now revealed boxer briefs was... a bad idea. Kageyama flushed down his neck and his breath grew too short for his liking, finally looking down into the water, frown etched deep into his features.

Kuroo mistook that worried look, though. “Hey, it’s cool if you wanna just. Y’know. Hang out instead.”

Kageyama stared at Kuroo a little wide-eyed, a bit surprised by the unwarranted kindness. And a bit unnecessary, as a cool swim sounded perfect to his rapidly overheating self. So after another second of debate and avoiding looking at Kuroo’s reassuring smile (that only served to make him blush more, thank you very much, _Kuroo_ ), he thought, _fuck it_ , and yanked off his shirt in possibly the most graceless display of stripping this side of, well, the pool, as Bokuto’s display a minute ago was anything to go by.

Kuroo didn’t exactly think so, though, thoroughly caught off guard and even feeling his own face grow warm at the unexpected display. He became so distracted – especially once Kageyama got to undoing his jeans – that he didn’t hear the _pap pap pap_ s of incoming footfall grow louder until an oblivious Bokuto had tackled Kuroo straight into the pool.

Kuroo probably would’ve chewed Bokuto out for it once they came up for air if he hadn’t been so embarrassed by the wet mop of thick hair that fell in his eyes. His bedhead had always been a sore spot, and when wet it was worse. Tonight seemed to just not be his night, he thought, sheepishly pushing it back out of his eyes before the other’s roasted him for it, or worse, Kageyama saw.

But to his, and the rest of the gang’s, shock, Kageyama began... laughing. Outright, not quiet snickering behind a hand or when he swallowed it down, but full-blown, hearty, belly-laugh. The kid _must’ve_ been beyond tipsy, but it quelled Kuroo’s nerves, both by distracting from his soggy nest of a hairdo and by being the sound Kuroo did not know he was missing from his life, and knew in an instant he never wanted to be without.

“Oh, you think that’s funny?” Kuroo said, wading closer to the edge and grinning wickedly. “Let’s see how you like it, then.” He launched himself an impressing amount out of the water, grabbing Kageyama by the wrist to yank him in with a yelp.

Kageyama resurfaced, infamous pout already directed at Kuroo, who was laughing in delight as Kageyama pushed the hair back from his forehead, but his laughter was cut off when Kageyama splashed him.

By this point, Matsukawa and Hanamaki had already performed a flawless double-cannonball into the water, and Yaku pushed Akaashi in the last few inches the other had refused. Kuroo tried to defend himself from the watery onslaught by dishing out the same treatment, like they were a couple of kids in the community pool and not two adults trespassing at three in the morning.

When Kageyama had conceded and heaved himself out of the pool, sitting at its edge and letting his legs dangle in the water, Kuroo smirked in triumph. “You’re gonna give up that easy?”

“Shut up,” Kageyama said, kicking water in Kuroo’s direction, fighting a smile and losing. Bokuto leapt up behind Kuroo and, being too heavy, they both went under. _This_ time, when they resurfaced, Kuroo sought revenge.

Kageyama watched in quiet amusement while Kuroo and Yaku paired up to double-team Bokuto in a splash war. Well, more like splash massacre. He felt warmth spread in his belly watching everyone, different from the intense heat he felt early. Softer, slower. It lasted longer and felt more genuine, his toes curling in the water.

Maybe he could stop considering the whole gang to be his acquaintances and allow himself to call them friends. His friends.

Allowing Yaku to finish Bokuto off by himself, and with the others concerned with themselves, Kuroo kept finding his attention drawn back to the boy by the pool. He waded over to join him, but instead of leaving the comfort of the water, he folded his arms over Kageyama’s thighs and rested his chin on them. Kageyama’s cheeks coloured when Kuroo gave him a wide, toothy grin, calloused fingertips wandering over the breadth of Kageyama’s soft thigh, barely grazing but no less electrifying.

His breath caught in his chest and Kuroo’s grin grew wider, but softened, warmed, like the way his skin did with every gentle, small pass of Kuroo’s fingers. Kuroo’s heartbeat quickened, licking his lips, enjoying the quiet moment and the way Kageyama felt under his arms. He didn’t expect him to be as soft and fleshy as he was, just from his initial glance, but a longing flashed through him of pressing chaste kisses to the other’s thighs.

It was cut short when a soggy pair of boxers landed on his head and draped over his face.

A cry of “Bokuto, _no!_ ” told him exactly who had been the perpetrator, and the nude flash of a very much completely naked Bokuto told them both more than they needed to know.

Kuroo shook off the boxers with disgust and Kageyama recoiled just a bit as they floated further into the pool, looking up to get and eyeful of Bokuto’s bare ass, emblazoned with a stamp that read “100% Grade A Beefcake”. Kageyama didn’t know Bokuto had an ass tattoo. Kageyama didn’t need to know.

Kuroo was out for blood and dashed off to possibly drown a now very exposed Bokuto, leaving Kageyama to recover from the trauma that was Bokuto without boxers, but more so the embarrassing moment he shared with Kuroo. He debated just sinking back into the pool and sitting at the bottom for an extended period, but he knew that’d never work with so many witnesses.

He minutely rubbed the rough cement of the ground next to him with the pads of fingers, distracting himself from how it felt when Kuroo did the same to his side. It turned out that a better distraction was a raindrop landing on the back of his hand, followed by its sisters, dotting the cement around him and rippling the pool water.

Kuroo stopped without Bokuto in a headlock, not because he begged for mercy, but because a low rumble rolled over the clouds that had rapidly set in. Before any of them could think twice, the light rainfall turned into a downpour, and they raced to collect their clothes and find shelter, but it being past 3 A.M. and that they were not residents of the motel made this difficult.

By the time they’d ran for shelter, they were soaked to the bone.

“I knew this was a bad idea...” Yaku grumbled, holding his arms in a feeble attempt to warm himself up. Akaashi had already called for a cab, though it’d be a while.

“We’re not far from here, let’s just book it,” Bokuto said. Kuroo nodded in agreement, but Yaku cut in.

“Oh no, no more of _your_ ideas. I’ll wait here for the cab – you guys go on if you want.”

Kuroo shrugged, turning to the others. The glare Akaashi gave told him that he was definitely a no, Hanamaki and Matsukawa also declined, and he may have gotten his hopes up just a bit for Kageyama. Kageyama _was_ cold and tired, and he wanted to be inside and dry five minutes ago, so he nodded enthusiastically.

It was only a few blocks to their apartment, and the rain was a fantastic motivator, especially with the looming threat of a full-blown storm. Besides, they couldn’t get any more wet or cold than they already were.

Barely a foot into their shared apartment, Bokuto had already peeled off his shirt for the second time that night and made way for the bathroom, loudly complaining the whole way about how cold he was.

“Wait here,” Kuroo told Kageyama, “I’ll go get you a towel.”

Kageyama stood awkwardly in their living room, dripping on the carpet and watching the clouds flash white and blue in the distance, raindrops chasing each other on the glass doors to their small balcony.

Kuroo came back with a bath towel, but Kageyama’s silhouette against the soft blue light of the sleeping city stopped him in his tracks. He’d heard others go on about how awkward and unbecoming the new prodigy setter was, but at that moment, that couldn’t have been further from the truth.

Kageyama noticed Kuroo’s presence and turned around, snapping Kuroo out of his reverie, and he sputtered trying to regain his footing, holding up the towel. “Here.”

“Thanks.” Kageyama took the towel when Kuroo stepped over, drying his hair first. Kuroo did not have the strength to look away, his hands moving on his own to take the towel from the other and carefully, hesitantly dry his hair for him, inwardly cursing because honestly, what was he doing. The whole night he’d been doing questionable things without thinking anything too much through, and it was culminating to this, hands shaking and fingers itching as he passed the towel through Kageyama’s hair. Thank god the kid didn’t comment on any of this. Instead, Kageyama just... watched, breath held tight in his chest and energy drained from his lead-heavy arms.

The first thing Kuroo’d really noticed about Kageyama was his eyes. He liked them, but not thought much about them before being this close, finally able to notice the deep blue, like a quiet storm out at sea. It could be unnerving to some, with its intensity, but it lit up his nerves and settled into his bones.

Kuroo thought about how unfamiliar he was with Kageyama, and how much he wanted to know. At this moment, he didn’t know how he tasted, how soft his lips might be or how his breath would stutter if he kissed him right now. How his hands might shake when he carefully grabbed Kuroo’s shirt, how he might press back with fervour. The hesitance in Kageyama’s eyes, the unknowing look made Kuroo want to find out.

But before he could even catch up with his thoughts, there was a yelp that rang through the apartment. He waited a moment, but without a reply, he yelled back, “Bo?”

Bokuto rounded the corner from the hallway in a pair of sweats, grimacing. “Burned my dick on the hair dryer.”

“What? Why?” His bafflement distracted him long enough for Kageyama to step back and to the balcony doors to finish drying off.

Bokuto shrugged. “It was cold.”

“So you stuck your dick in the hair dryer?”

“What? No. That’d be stupid,” Bokuto said, scoffing. “I stuck it in my pants.”

You’d think Kuroo would be used to Bokuto’s special brand of stupidity, but he still sighed and hung his head.

In retrospect, though, maybe it was best Bokuto had interrupted him that time. He was getting in far too deep far too fast and he needed to take a few steps back from this situation and from these new feelings.

Yaku had warned him and he should heed that warning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so apparently there's a chain in japan called jonathans thats like dennys
> 
> kudos always motivate me, and comments always motivate me more!!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 sorry this is a little later than I wanted it to be I've got things going on  
> 2 time to start heeding the tags on this fic!!
> 
> Song suggestions:  
> Ghosts 'n Stuff - Deadmau5 ft. Rob Swire)  
> The Woods - Wolfgun

The soft pale blue light washing over the hardwood floor was the only indicator Kageyama got that it was dawn. His phone died hours ago and he didn’t have his charger, and it seems Kuroo and Bokuto had been personally offended by any and all clocks.

He watched the shadows stretch over the ceiling inch by agonizing inch, his eyes heavy, but sleep had long escaped him. Kuroo’d insisted that he take his bed for the night and he could crash on the couch, but Kageyama declined. It seemed rude to displace him from his own bed after having to unexpectedly stay the night when the storm hung low over the city.

That, and having to sleep in Kuroo’s bed? In his room? Where the distinct smell he had – sweat, almond, and a cologne Kageyama could never quite place – probably lingered, in a bed that _must_ be saturated in it.

No thanks. He had enough trouble sleeping as is without his senses being overwhelmed.

He got maybe two hours sleep max, and it couldn’t have been later than six in the morning now. Because it was a Sunday, he didn’t expect Kuroo or Bokuto to be up for another four hours at least. He drummed his fingers against his stomach, willing time to pass by quicker. The longer he was alone without distractions, the more he could overthink everything that had happened that night.

And he didn’t want to think about how much he actually enjoyed the few shared moments he had with Kuroo. But the more the seconds ticked by in his head, the more he dwelled on the gentle brush of rough finger pads and the hesitant scrub of a towel through his hair.

He groaned softly and scrubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms until he saw white.

For the next few hours, Kageyama drifted in and out of sleep, little half our breaks where he dreamt of pushing himself in volleyball, being a regular; where school wasn’t difficult or tedious and his dad told him how proud he was; where he could sit on the very couch he was sleeping on with Kuroo’s arm around his shoulder and he could rest easy, the television humming softly in the background.

During one of the many times Kageyama dozed off, Kuroo stumbled out of his room, still half asleep and scratching his bare chest, his other hand holding a soft, worn shirt. He yawned big as he rounded the corner and saw Kageyama sleeping soundly in the warm morning light. Kuroo smiled softly to himself when he noticed that Kageyama dropped the frown and relaxed his eyebrows when he was asleep and instead adopted a little line of drool. It was cute.

He padded across the living room, pulling his shirt over his head and straightening his hair. He was going to make coffee, but the thought of the machine waking up Kageyama from such a sweet slumber (and depriving Kuroo of such a sweet sight) made him decide against it.

He leaned on his elbows against the kitchen counter for a moment. He spent the night before lying awake in bed, flipping back and forth between _what the fuck am I doing Yaku’s right_ and _ok but Kageyama’s cute_. Unfortunately, Yaku _was_ right – this isn’t something he should pursue. The kid’s young and new to the school, new to their group. The last thing Kuroo wanted to do was scare him away or make things awkward by asking him out. The kid was _just_ starting to get a bit more comfortable with him – with _everyone_ – and he didn’t want to go muck that up. He was satisfied for now just being friends.

But he was still going to admire the view for a minute longer.

He grabbed his keys and shrugged on a jacket, the apartment door clicking quietly behind him on his way out. An hour later and back with bags of fast food and a tray of coffee, nothing’s changed. Kageyama’s still out cold on the couch, though the drool has pooled a little on the pillow, and Bokuto was nowhere to be found.

Time to rise and shine.

Kuroo didn’t bother knocking on Bokuto’s door and just walked right in, dropping one of the paper bags on the other’s naked, sleeping form. He startled awake, groaning, just in time to see Kuroo place one of the cardboard coffee cups on his nightstand.

“Wakey wakey,” Kuroo said.

“Eggs and bakey?” Bokuto asked, garbled and drowsy, only one eye open and rolling on to his side, the bag sliding off his back.

“Burgers. They stopped serving breakfast by the time I got there, and you need the carbs and protein.”

Bokuto peeked into the bag and pulled out the greasy sandwich, sighing dreamily, pulling Kuroo close enough to kiss his hip. “What would I do without you...”

“I don’t even want to think about it.” Kuroo patted Bokuto’s nest of bedhead and pried himself away.

Kageyama was still asleep in the living room, and Kuroo didn’t have the heart to deprive him of sleep. Since they’ve met, Kageyama’s mentioned here and there his problems with sleep, and ever since he confided in Kuroo in that dingy laundromat a few weeks ago how bad it gets, he was worried.

He softly placed one of the coffee cups on the coffee table and moved to the kitchen as quietly as he could to put Kageyama’s food away for when he woke up, but good intentions can only take you so far.

Kageyama groaned, rubbing his eyes and rolled over, blinking the sleep from his eyes to see a warm cup of coffee waiting for him and a slightly bewildered Kuroo staring at him from the kitchen.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” Kuroo asked, making his way back around the kitchen partition with the paper bag. He placed it on the table beside the coffee before sitting down next to it.

“No,” Kageyama grumbled, sitting up. His pounding headache was what woke him up. He rubbed his temple with the heel of his palm, pushing back his hair with the other.

“Advil?” Kuroo tried not to laugh. Apparently last night really was a little too much for Kageyama. He nodded and Kuroo made a beeline for the kitchen. “So, how’d you sleep?”

Kageyama grunted from his seat on the couch, face buried in his hands and elbows perched on his knees. “Fine,” he lied.

“Bo sometimes conks out there, and he finds it pretty comfortable.” He ran the tap, filling a glass halfway with cool water before returning. Kageyama nodded a thanks and downed both pills and water.

“You’re going to want this,” Kuroo said, handing him the bag of cooling burgers and fries. “Protein and carbs are a great cure for a hangover, your body needs it.”

Kageyama probably would’ve found that a lot more interesting if he didn’t feel like a hefty sack of rotting garbage.

Kuroo watched the boy stuff his cheeks impressively full of fatty meat and greasy cheese he almost worried he’d choke. “Slow down, it’s not going anywhere,” he laughed, but only earned a tired and hungry glare from Kageyama, which only made him laugh more. “Bokuto told me you guys don’t have practice today.”

Kageyama nodded and swallowed hard. “Yeah,” he said before taking another bite and continuing with a mouth full of food, “but I gotta go to school to pick up a test today.”

He was not looking forward to that. Another test to prove that no matter how hard he’d study, pen chewed down to a mangled mess he’s glad it didn’t explode, groans of frustration loud enough his neighbour pounded on their shared wall at two in the morning, no matter how _close_ he was to just saying fuck it and tossing his text book out the sixth storey window and then following it, he’d always get a less than satisfactory mark. He didn’t need to see it. He knew. He knew the second he walked out of that classroom he’d be staring down a D, C at best.

Kuroo kept him quiet company, even keeping the news he turned on down to a minimum, while Kageyama finished up his unusual breakfast and waited for those pills to kick in.

“Want me to call you a cab?” Kuroo asked, voice quiet and gentle, considering Kageyama was still rubbing at his eyes like he hadn’t woke up nearly an hour ago.

“No.” Kageyama shook his head and sighed. “Thanks. I think I’ll just walk.” Kageyama heaved himself off the couch with a groan and lumbered over to where his shoes were dumped the night before. Kuroo furrowed his brows.

“Alright...” he said skeptically. “Let me know when you get home.” Kageyama nodded, not even looking over his shoulder as he stuffed his feet in his shoes, tapping them on as best he can before giving up. He threw a wave over his shoulder and headed out – his manners went right out the window when he felt like shit and couldn’t be bothered to heed his parents’ constant scolding about how rude he was. Luckily, Kuroo was more concerned with the kid getting home safe and getting over his mild hangover than the grunt he got instead of a goodbye.

Not long after Kageyama left did Bokuto step out of his room, unsurprisingly only wearing socks and a yawn.

“He gone?” he asked, leaning against the wall.

“Yeah,” Kuroo sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“Good, didn’t want to-“ He grinned, one eyebrow raised suggestively high, “-interrupt.”

“Oh, like you did last night?”

“I didn’t mean to!” Bokuto wailed, throwing his head back and hitting it against the wall, recoiling with a hiss and rubbing the soon-to-be bump. “My junk was cold!”

Kuroo didn’t bother dignifying that with a response, knowing he’d squash an incoming tantrum with one look. Bokuto huffed, crossing his arms over his chest and pouting at the television, playing some story about pandas at the zoo at the end of the news segment.

After a minute or so, he sniffed, rubbing his nose. “So,” he began, eyeing the other.

Kuroo sighed heavily. “Fine."

 

 

 

Kageyama stared at the thick, red _D_ scrawled at the top of his test paper, littered with _x_ s and corrections to nearly every answer he wrote. It’s not even like he expected an _A_ or even a _B_ – in fact, he fully expected this to be the result of his efforts, but it didn’t lessen the blow.

He couldn’t take his eyes off the grade that glared at him from his page as he walked out of the room and to one of the many empty sitting areas around campus. A few scattered students studied quietly in armchairs and at small, square tables in the open area, surrounded by silent classrooms. The rain came back around the time Kageyama stepped foot in the academic building, the only luck he’d seen that day, and it gently pattered against the floor to ceiling windows in between classrooms and elevators.

Kageyama slumped in a chair. His brows pinched together as he read all the corrections, bottom lip pushing out as he tried his best to understand _where_ he went wrong and just _how_ to fix this the next test.

Yaku walked out of the small on-campus coffee shop, fresh cup in hand, when he noticed Kageyama, hunched over a table and grumbling to himself.

“Must be pretty interesting,” Yaku commented when he approached the other, peeking over his shoulder and grimacing at what he saw. “Ooh... didn’t study?”

“No,” Kageyama said, face pinched in depression as he tossed the test on the table and leaned back in his chair. Yaku took the chair opposite him. “I studied really hard, did the mock test, took all kinds of notes, and I still come out with a shit grade.”

Yaku frowned. “Really? That can’t be right.” Kageyama shrugged. “If you studied that hard, your marks would reflect that.”

Too tired to bother explaining himself to someone else, Kageyama remained quiet. Yaku sensed Kageyama’s discomfort, radiating off him in thick waves, and the boy looked ill. Being there the night before, Yaku had a good idea why that may be.

“So,” Yaku began, trying to change the subject, “how’d you get home last night? Must’ve been better than catching a cab with Matsukawa and Hanamaki, I’m sure.”

“Oh, I didn’t. I just stayed over at Kuroo and Bokuto’s.” If Yaku had been drinking his coffee at that moment, it could’ve been a disaster.

“O-oh! And how’d that go?” he tried not to let any worry seep into his voice, but Yaku was never a fair liar, nor did he usually try to be. But Kageyama was a nice and clueless kid, best not to worry him.

Kageyama shrugged. “Their couch is a lot comfier than I thought it’d be, I guess.”

Yaku nodded, relaxing. A silence fell over them, and Yaku gulped down his coffee. If he slept on the couch, then nothing had happened. Maybe he’d been worried over nothing, but he couldn’t deny that look he saw Kuroo give the kid the other night. If you looked up the definition for “smitten kitten”, surely Kuroo’s picture would come up. Probably striking a pose, too.

“You’re getting pretty close with Kuroo, huh?” Yaku said. “And Bokuto.”

Kageyama stared at him for a second. Him? Close? With people? A foreign concept. “Well...” He scratched the back of his neck, watching the rain gently pelt the window nearby. “I guess...? I don’t know, they talk to me and invite me out sometimes.”

Yaku sighed heavily, slumping back in his chair a bit and joining Kageyama in watching the rain. It was just as he feared. They’d had quite a few people come in and out of their group like it was a revolving door. Most of them left because it was just too much trying to deal with Kuroo and Bokuto and their non-stop party lifestyle, but things had died down in the last few years. At least with Kuroo. However, people continued to leave for a different reason...

“Hey.” He leaned forward, fiddling with the paper coffee cup in his hands, drawing Kageyama’s attention back. “Listen. Kuroo and Bokuto are...” He waved his hand in the air, searching for the appropriate word that wouldn’t sound too rude. “They can get a bit wild. I’m telling you this now because, well. You’re still pretty young, you just came here and, well...” He picked up Kageyama’s test paper and dangled it between his fingers.

Kageyama furrowed his brows. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, those two tend to make a lot of bad decisions, and I don’t want them to... influence you. They can handle the shit they do. They still keep on top of all their school work, and that goes double for Bokuto with volleyball. I just don’t want them getting you into trouble.”

Kageyama didn’t quite follow, but he nodded along slowly. Bokuto he could understand, but Kuroo?

“There’s... one other thing...” Yaku laid the test back down again, averting his eyes and folding his hands on the table. “You’re definitely not the first person to join our group out of nowhere, and we like you.” _Some maybe more than others,_ he thought, biting his lip. “I just want to tell you to maybe be careful around Kuroo.”

Kageyama couldn’t continue this conversation the way he was going. “I don’t get it.”

“I mean. Kuroo has a tendency to get... interested in new people pretty quickly, and then three months later, he gets bored again. He’s a great guy, don’t get me wrong! I’ve known him since high school, though, and I’ve seen him go through this cycle a _lot_ , so I just want you to-“ Yaku swiped his hand through the air, “-avoid it.”

Kageyama nodded, not bothering to ask what he meant by _interested_ or _wild_ or basically any of this conversation. What he did understand though was he had about another two months with this group if he didn’t play his cards right. The only thing was, he wasn’t sure what game he was playing.

Yaku laughed nervously, standing up from his chair. “Listen. Don’t worry too much about it, okay?” He walked around the table to pat Kageyama on the back. “I gotta get going, though, but if you ever want to talk, just let me know, okay?” He gave Kageyama a warm smile, which didn’t dispel the boy’s confusion, but he nodded.

Once Yaku had left with his nearly empty coffee cup, Kageyama’s attention was drawn back to his dismal grade. Whatever Yaku had been talking about was certainly confusing and Kageyama thought it should be worrying him, make him want to learn the rules of this group, this game, but he was much too concerned with this grade. And how his father was going to take it.

 

 

 

“Ok, but-“ Kuroo groaned when Bokuto pulled off his dick _again_.

“Bo, please stop.”

“No no, hear me out.” Bokuto used his free hand to emphasize his point. “You two looked _pretty_ cozy last night.”

“I _told_ you it was nothing, drop it. I’m not going to last,” Kuroo said, glaring down at Bokuto. He was the one that proposed a blow job and yet he could _not_ stop talking.

“Okay, okay, geez.” Bokuto took his dick back in his mouth and Kuroo leaned back, stretching out, indulging himself. When Bokuto wasn’t running his mouth, he was actually pretty good with it.

With Bokuto around, the revolving door of people in their group gradually slowed down, and so did the need to find decent people to hook up with. This was much more Kuroo’s speed anyway – one-night stands were never his ideal, and he’d grown up quite a lot from his early days in university. Besides, Bo was his best friend and his roommate; it was both familiar and convenient.

Still though, it was times like these Kuroo didn’t know why he’d ever agree to this. Case in point, Bokuto shoving his dick into his cheek, letting it bulge on one side, so he could keep talking.

“Bo, _why_ ,” Kuroo groaned. Not the kind of groaning he expected he’d be doing, either. “Don’t talk with my dick in your mouth.”

Bokuto pulled off with a pop, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Well I can’t do both!”

“Then don’t talk!”

Bokuto propped his head on his clean hand and pouted, continuing to lazily stroke Kuroo. It didn’t help at all. “I’m just saying, if you’re not going to do anything, then maybe I’ll-“

“No,” Kuroo interrupted him.

“But why not!” Bokuto whined, squeezing his hand around Kuroo in his excitement. Kuroo kicked out and swatted Bokuto’s hand away, thoroughly giving up on finishing. Bokuto had a one-track mind, and currently his train of thought was chugging along this conversation.

“Because, you’re going to scare him off.”

“Me?!” Bokuto’s eyes went wide, lifting himself off the bed on all fours like a shocked dog. “You’re just saying that ‘cause you still want a shot.”

“I do n-“

“Hey man, it’s cool, I won’t do anything if you’re interested, you know that. But if you’re not...”

Kuroo sighed, exasperated. The absolute last thing he wanted to be doing while getting blown was to have a conversation with the person going down on him, and _especially_ about Kageyama. If he started thinking about him now, at this time, with Bokuto doing what he was doing, there was no coming back from that.

“I mean, he’s cute. You think he’s cute, right?” Bokuto asked, his hand snaking its way back to Kuroo’s dick and absentmindedly continued to languidly stroke him.

“Why are we talking about this now?”

Bokuto shrugged. “Why not? Just admit it, you think he’d look better here, in my place,” he gestured between them both, “sucking _you_ off-“

“Stop, I swear to god.”

“What’s stopping you from just asking him out or something?”

At the risk of going soft, Kuroo actually graced Bokuto with an answer. “I don’t know, I just don’t want to ruin anything.”

Bokuto quirked his face. “You actually like him?”

“As a friend, yeah. I don’t want him to be weirded out and stop hanging out with us ‘cause of that.” _Or if it doesn’t work out._

Truth be told, Kuroo was worried his feelings wouldn’t be returned. If it meant that Kageyama would continue to stay in the group and go out with them on weekends and come over for a game of cards, then Kuroo would gladly just swallow his feelings.

This is exactly the kind of thing he wanted to be thinking about right now: getting rejected by his little crush. The thought alone could make him go limp.

Bokuto just nodded. “So... I guess that means you won’t let me try either.”

Kuroo gave him a disgruntled look, ending the conversation pointedly by gently – but firmly – pushing Bokuto back down on his dick. Not like Bokuto minded anyway.

 

 

 

The abysmal grade Kageyama received haunted him and deprived him of what little sleep he was already getting. He kept thinking about his next conversation with his father, how he’d ask if he got any tests back. The semester was in full swing now, there was no way he could put it off and say he hadn’t received any grades yet. His father was smarter than that.

The best he could do at this point was hold off on talking to his parents at all, say he was too busy to talk what with studying and volleyball. That should keep them at bay for maybe a week at most, but his mother could be persistent.

He didn’t exactly want to give his mother the cold shoulder either. She’d be disappointed with the mark, sure, and maybe scold him a little, but she was much more forgiving than his father. The problem was, if he picked up his mother’s calls, then his father would demand to speak to him too and the phone would be handed over, along with his ass.

Kageyama spent his night planning every possible outcome and every possible excuse he could give to just buy him a little more time. It made his stomach churn.

He mulled over the possibilities until he couldn’t take it anymore, about ready to burst into a screaming fit. He couldn’t do that, though – these walls were too thin and he had too many neighbours – so he settled for silently thrashing and hopping up off his bed, kicking on his sneakers in frustration and dashing out of his dormitory in a flurry of overwhelming nervous energy.

He debated taking Yaku up on his offer to talk to him about anything, but it was nearing one in the morning, and he didn’t wish to deprive anyone else of their well-earned rest, even if he found himself without.

His feet took him far, though, and gave him plenty of time to rid himself of his antsiness. Able to think a bit more clearly, without the flurry of _what if_ s, and noticing where he was, he remembered the nondescript bar with a deep red neon sign hanging over the sidewalk, sitting comfortably across the street from a laundromat.

His stomach did a somersault, daring him to hope that Kuroo was working tonight. Just so he had someone to talk to.

The door rang, announcing Kageyama’s entry as he stepped into the dark, rather empty bar. There were a few scattered patrons – a few in separate booths, a couple talking quietly over drinks, and one lonely man slouched over at the end of the bar. The warm, yellow hanging lamps did little to light up the otherwise dank room, and dark wood certainly did not help the illumination issue. The only thing well-lit was the showcase of expensive bottles of liquor centred behind the bar.

“Welcome,” Kuroo greeted, doing a double-take when he noticed who had just walked in and donned a wide grin. “Hey! I’ll be with you in a minute.”

Kageyama nodded awkwardly, looking around the bar, hands stuffed in his pockets. He sat down on one of the pleather stools at the bar, the seat creaking a bit under his weight.

“So,” Kuroo said after finishing up with another customer, “what brings you here? Couldn’t sleep again?”

Kageyama sighed, leaning against the bar with his elbows and rubbing an eye with his hand. “Yeah.”

“What’s up?” Kuroo asked, a little worried. “You look kinda down.”

Kageyama slouched forward, nestling his chin in his arms against the bar. “I got my test back.”

“Not good, huh.”

Kageyama shook his head, frowning.

“It’s just one, though, right? You can do better next time.” Kuroo gave the other a little pat on the shoulder before noticing one of the customers in a booth wave him over, and he nodded in their direction.

“Listen,” Kuroo began, “how about I get you something, then you can tell me about it.” Kageyama nodded solemnly, glaring at one of the crystal bottles in the showcase while Kuroo went to tend to other customers. He wallowed while waiting.

Kuroo came back with a soda for Kageyama, knowing alcohol would do nothing to help his sleep state. “So what’s up.”

“My dad,” Kageyama grumbled, taking the drink in hand but no sip. “When he finds out I got a D on the first test in university, he’s gonna flip his shit.”

“Ah.” Kuroo nodded in understanding. “And I guess not telling him isn’t an option.”

Kageyama shook his head. “We’re already a month in, and he’s been asking for weeks already. He’ll just get pissed if I say there’s been no tests.”

“More pissed than if you told him you got a shit grade?”

“Probably,” he snorted. “Lying is one of the worst offenses.”

“Well, how angry do you think he’d get?”

“I don’t know,” Kageyama sighed, twisting the glass in his hand against the bar top. His father had gotten mad at him more times than he could ever even dream to count, but he remained unpredictable. Especially now that Kageyama no longer lived at home, what measures would he go to?

Kuroo felt for him; he hadn’t heard much about the kid’s parents, and he wasn’t one to judge before meeting anyone personally, but he already didn’t like the sound of his father. Kageyama was so distraught over just one bad grade that he was losing even more sleep, and it began to worry Kuroo. “So what are you going to do?” he asked softly.

“Avoid any calls for a bit, I guess. Work harder on the next test and maybe it’ll even things out a bit.”

Kuroo nodded, bothered by the fact he had no advice to give to someone in this situation. “Well, if you need any help studying, you can always come to me.”

“Really?” Kageyama perked up a bit, ceasing his fiddling with the still full glass.

“Yeah.” Kuroo gave him a genuine half-smile, trying not to let a grin crack his facade, but the hopeful gleam in Kageyama’s deep eyes was weakening his resolve. “Not to sound cocky, but I’m pretty smart. Maybe I can help you find good ways to study or something?”

Kageyama grinned, sitting up straight again, and Kuroo’s heart fluttered. “That’d be great, thanks.”

“No problem,” Kuroo said, losing the battle with his own smile. “Now drink up. Don’t waste my money.”

Kageyama gave him a quizzical look and he laughed. “It’s on me.”

Kageyama relaxed his shoulders and gave him a gentle smile, downing the drink. One little soda was peanuts if it meant that Kageyama would smile like that. Hours spent helping him study was nothing if it meant Kageyama could rest easy. And any extra time he got to spend around Kageyama was just a bonus of course.

Especially if those smiles, ones that could brighten up this dull bar, were directed at him.

 

 

 

Another week came and went, and Kageyama successfully dodged any and all calls from his parents.

“Sorry, mom, on my way to practice.”

“I’ll call you later, I’m in class right now.”

“I’m just grabbing dinner with a friend, I really can’t talk.”

“I’m swamped with homework, I’ll talk to you another time.”

He held any questioning of his busy life off by granting a few minutes here and there to ensure his mother he was eating fine and everything was going along just swimmingly. She seemed pretty pleased he was so busy with schoolwork and keeping on top of it all, and even congratulated him on making new friends. In fact, the times she least wanted to bother him is if he said he was out with them.

Luckily, there’d been no word from his father. She probably told him that Tobio was so busy with school and that kept him satisfied long enough to not ask any further questions.

And it wasn’t exactly a lie; Kageyama really was swamped with homework, and trying his best to keep on top of things. He was putting in just as much effort as he was with volleyball, still chasing that regular position as a starter on the court. And he was hanging out with the group during the day, in between classes and volleyball, in the evenings sometimes, too, if he wasn’t buried under readings and notes.

But Saturday had rolled around again and it was his night off, to blow off a little steam and ditch the textbooks for a few welcome hours. And he wasn’t the only one that shared this need, apparently, as their usual club, albeit one of the bigger ones on the strip, was packed to the brim.

Put off by the crowds, Kageyama made a bee-line for the bar to quell his anxiety, Akaashi and Yaku blessedly keeping him company until he relaxed a bit. Once he loosened up, though, his anxious energy turned into one that made him wade through the sweaty crowds in search of Kuroo and Bokuto.

He found them buried in the belly of the dance floor with a small group of people, wedging himself beside them on the outskirts of the circle.

“Hey!” Bokuto greeted, shouting over the loud music. “You found us!”

“Wasn’t easy,” Kageyama said.

“At least you made it in one piece,” Kuroo said, clasping Kageyama’s shoulder to lean in a bit for the other to hear him over the pounding base and crowds.

Kageyama more or less ignored the others in the group, people he neither knew nor cared about, but he did notice low conversations (as low as one could get in the middle of a club) and an exchange. “What’s going on?”

“Oh, uh.” Bokuto gave Kuroo a look but only got a shrug in return. “Just trying to score.”

Kageyama screwed up his face. “Score? Like... points?”

Bokuto barked out a laugh louder than the bass, throwing his head back. “No, not points. Drugs.”

“Oh!” Kageyama said, eyes wide with surprise as he tried to reel himself back in. “Oh, okay. Yeah.”

He watched the exchange, curiosity piqued with the aid of a little inebriation, leaning closer to Kuroo to ask, “What is it?”

“Speed, Bo’s favourite.”

“What’s it do?”

“Uh...” Kuroo didn’t exactly want to be an advocate for it, but the kid just seemed a little curious. He waved his hand a bit in the air as he searched for the right words. “It makes you feel... better. More energetic and confident and... focused, I guess.”

“Hey,” Bokuto interrupted, leaning back into their conversation to talk to Kuroo. “You want?”

Kuroo shook his head. “Nah, I’m good tonight.”

“I do.” Both Kuroo and Bokuto wheeled around, gaping at Kageyama. The boy just stared back innocently, like all he’d asked was to try a different brand of vitamin and not an illicit drug in the form of a neat, little pill.

A wide grin broke onto Bokuto’s face. “Yeah! That’s the spirit!”

“You don’t have to, y’know,” Kuroo said.

Kageyama just shrugged. “I know.” But Kuroo’s description, although not intentional, appealed to Kageyama. He figured, what was the harm in trying. Especially with how he’d been feeling listless and stressed all week, the mere thought of having energy and a good time was inviting.

And Bokuto was all for it. When the deal was done, the three of them broke away from the circle and made their way off to the side of the dance floor, trying to find a bit more privacy in a building where privacy didn’t exist.

“Here,” Bokuto said, handing Kageyama a small, white pill. He watched Bokuto wink at him through the flashing lights and pop his own pill in his mouth. After exchanging a look with Kuroo, he followed suit, recoiling at the awfully bitter taste.

Bokuto gave him a hard slap on the back, “Thatta boy!”

Kageyama frowned, brows bunched together. “Is... that it?” He felt no different, except a bitter aftertaste.

“Relax! It’ll come,” Bokuto said, offering no other explanation before dashing off back into the crowd. Kageyama watched, no less confused.

Kuroo laughed, putting an arm around the boy and gently ushering him from the wall, leaving his question unanswered.

Kageyama got the answer, though, about twenty minutes later, with a slow but steady rush of energy and elation. Worries melted right off his tongue, replaced with euphoria. He dragged Kuroo into the center of the dance floor with an energy that was screaming to be burned off, and a need to do it with Kuroo.

Dancing had begun to become fun in the last few weeks under normal circumstances, but now there was absolutely nothing – _nothing_ , except save for maybe, _maybe_ volleyball – that he’d rather do right now, and no one he’d rather do it with.

It was strange, but certainly not unwelcome for Kuroo, being pulled around by Kageyama, the other pushing and placing his hands on his hips of his own volition, already grinding and swaying with a vigor he hadn’t seen from Kageyama before. He was barely able to keep up with him at this pace, and yet he pushed himself a bit, if only to be able to be the target of his energy.

But his delight was cut short when Kageyama whined about being hot and thirsty and just as quickly dragged Kuroo off to the bar by the hand, unable to help the chuckle he let out at the whirlwind of a boy.

Matsukawa, Hanamaki, and Yaku were lounging by the bar, and the former two, within seconds, started snickering. They knew.

“Hey, Kageyama,” Hanamaki said, leaning against the bar, “how you feeling?”

“Great!” Kageyama said excitedly, letting go of Kuroo. “I’m actually kind of hot and a little thirsty but I guess that’s ‘cause there’s so many people in here and I was dancing and I’m wearing pants, is it hot in here to you guys?”

Matsukawa and Hanamaki burst out laughing, thoroughly delighted by how conversational and energetic Kageyama was when on a little speed. “No, no, we’re fine here.”

“Oh,” Kageyama said, deflating a little and frowning. “I guess that’s ‘cause you guys’ve been here by the bar and not there in the crowd, that makes sense.” He whipped around to face Kuroo. “Did it seem hot to you ‘cause if it’s just me that’s a little weird it can’t just be me right there’s like a thousand people in here but I kinda wanna go back out maybe after a drink though.”

Kuroo couldn’t help but laugh, too. It seemed Kageyama high was a bit of a talker, he barely took a breath as his tongue ran a mile a minute, faster than even his thoughts could process, a stark contrast compared to the normal, sober Kageyama.

He didn’t get much time to enjoy it though, as Yaku grabbed him by the arm and dragged him away. Kageyama cocked his head as he watched Yaku haul Kuroo away angrily, but wheeled back around to Matsukawa and Hanamaki to talk to them in the next second.

“You got him _high_?!” Yaku yelled once they were away, and not because the music was too loud.

“Hey, I didn’t do anything,” Kuroo said, throwing his hands up defensively, “it was all his idea, I swear.”

“And you _let_ him? What is wrong with you, Kuroo!”

“Hey, it’s not my decision whether he can or can’t do what he wants. He wanted to try it, it’s harmless, it’s fine, you know that.”

“I _know_ what it’s like, Kuroo, and I also know what _he’s_ like. He’s not like you or Bokuto or even me, and he’s younger, too. You should be a better role-model!”

“Hey.” Kuroo was a little insulted. It’s not like he wasn’t looking out for Kageyama, he made sure it was safe for him to try it out. “I’m not even doing anything tonight. I’m making sure things are okay, that he’s okay. If he wants to try something, who am I to tell him not to? I’m just trying to make sure he does it in a safe way. I’m keeping an eye on him.”

“I know what eye you’re keeping on him, Kuroo.” Yaku twisted his face in disgust, relaxing from his aggressive stance. “You just better hope this doesn’t all go to shit on you. And especially not on Kageyama.”

Before Kuroo could even retort, Yaku had stomped off, probably in search of Bokuto to give him a piece of his mind, too. Kuroo scoffed. If anyone wanted the best for Kageyama now, it was certainly him. He knew what kind of stress the kid was under this week, it was his decision, and he was having a great time. He wanted Kageyama’s experience to be fun and safe, and what was Yaku accusing him of?

Kuroo spotted Kageyama back on the dance floor, this time accompanied by a now shirtless Bokuto, both jumping along to the beat of the song in ecstasy. Kuroo’s mouth quirked into a smile.

He was fine. He was finally enjoying himself. And Yaku had nothing to worry about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for everyone leaving a comment last week, I didn't expect such a response and it means a lot :') comments really do help and motivate me, so leave more!
> 
> Also, I'm not sure if anyone takes the song suggestions, but if u do and ur interested i have a spotify playlist for the whole au at https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLJlnr2QnTDg-EcYbRw7gildh6dBwdo9xr


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song suggestions:  
> The Hills - The Weeknd (lyrics absolutely do not apply lmao)  
> Technicolor Beat - Oh Wonder (lyrics do apply, incredible)

Kageyama scribbled furiously in his notebook in a desperate attempt to keep up with the teacher. He spoke too fast and barely left the slides up on the projector long enough for him to read it, and he couldn’t keep up anymore. He was no longer processing the words he heard, just transmitted from ear to hand – he wasn’t sure if he would even be able to read his notes after this, but he would deal with that problem when he came to it.

His professor sped through the lesson on their last reading – one Kageyama had actually _read_ , but felt anger and frustration bubble up when he found he just couldn’t follow along, drawing a complete blank on everything he’d read the night before. Overwhelmed and on the verge of defeat – and maybe even tears – his phone buzzed quietly in his lap.

Giving up and needing to reset before he blew his gasket in the middle of a class, he dropped his pen and picked up his phone. It was a message from Bokuto.

 _Saturday night was so fun!!!!_ , the text read, followed by a few confusing emojis of tongues sticking out, flames, and other seemingly random icons.

Oh, last night... Kageyama regretfully remembered how foolish he acted the night before. It was fun at the time, and he did collapse the second he got home safely – Kuroo saw him to the door of his building, and Kageyama blessedly found his room and didn’t have to crash in the common room. The problem was when he woke up, the embarrassment hit him like a bad hangover. For some reason, he could not _shut up_ , and despite his crash later, he had an overabundance of energy.

And Kuroo... he was absolutely _mortified_ remembering how forward he was just dancing with Kuroo last night, he must’ve looked like an absolute idiot. He thanked whatever powers that be that he wasn’t forward in any other way. He could’ve effectively ruined the budding friendship he had with Kuroo, or even the whole group.

But the surge of confidence and the ease of social interaction was... invigorating. It was something that came so _naturally_ to so many people and something he lacked, but _this_... this was a sure-fire way to ensure his anxiousness melt away and be replaced by a confident, fun, social butterfly. It was something he admitted to himself, honest but a little ashamed and even a little afraid, that he craved more of.

Another text came in before he could even respond to the first one.

_We gotta do that again!_

Kageyama’s stomach leapt a little, and he tapped his screen as he debated whether he should send a quick agreement or heed the many warnings that’d been driven into his skull since elementary school. Unable to make a sure decision, he replied with just a wishy-washy _Maybe._

The crash he’d suffered afterwards did leave him with a blend of his usual restlessness but minus any energy and a foggy hangover. It wasn’t exactly the most appealing feeling, especially when he had stuff to do the next day, and it deterred him. Sometime again, sure, but he needed a little time to recover, he thought.

But the idea that it was still waiting for him any time he wanted to return made Kageyama look forward to the next time he’d be able to, and feel up to it.

Over the next few days, though, he pushed it entirely to the back of his mind. He was still dodging his parents’ calls, and scrambling to study harder for the next test in order to make up for that blemish on his grade already.

He took Kuroo up on his offer to help him, and they frequently met up for lunch. Kuroo proved to be a solid tutor, explaining things as best he can for Kageyama to better understand. It didn’t take long for Kuroo to find a good method for things to stick with Kageyama, finding the boy worked so much better when he was able to visualize what he was learning.

Diagrams were drawn and notes organized in appealing, clean, colourful ways. It was the only thing keeping Kageyama afloat amidst the sea of readings and homework when he found himself without a paddle. University was much more intense than high school was, and there was so much more at stake now. It was overwhelming, but Kageyama kept at it. There was no way he would give up, especially this soon.

Unfortunately, volleyball was no longer an appropriate outlet, but another cause for Kageyama’s growing grief. He worked just as hard on the court as he did off just to be a regular, and blessedly was pulled aside after one afternoon practice by the coach. He’d taken notice in Kageyama’s hard work and assured him if he kept it up and practiced more with some of the regular spikers, he’d be seeing first string within the year.

The conversation sparked hope and an unrivaled fire in Kageyama’s belly, knowing his hard work in at least one area was paying off, and he planned to double his practice after midterms, though they were quite a ways away. It was something more productive to look forward to, though.

He excitedly told Kuroo the good news over text, unable to keep his pride inside and needing to share it with someone. A first year and a regular on a top school’s volleyball team? Even he had to give himself a little credit, though he knew he could always do better, work harder.

Kageyama’s chest may have swelled more when Kuroo returned his enthusiasm and even told him he was proud of Kageyama. To be completely honest, someone being proud of him for anything was not something Kageyama was accustomed to. He’d been called a prodigy in volleyball, but it was rare that someone actually told him they were proud, and it’d seeped into his opinion of himself.

Besides the fact that he knew he could always do better, it was just as rare for Kageyama to be proud in anything he did. He was starved for praise and validation, and a single text from Kuroo filled him with an immense warmth.

 _We should celebrate_ , Kuroo texted. _Wanna grab a bite at Jonathan’s later?_

Kageyama could not wait to ditch the textbooks, especially since it was Thursday and he’d been mercifully granted a long weekend. He shot off a reply lightning fast and hopped up off his bed to change out of his sweats before he even got a reply.

Kuroo invited Kageyama to swing by his apartment so they can walk over to the diner together. Despite it being around dinner time, it was still just a Thursday at a rather sleepy location, so the two found themselves to be sharing the dining floor with two other couples – one wedged in the back corner booth, crooning over each other, and the other pair eating quietly at the bar top that wrapped around the kitchen.

“So,” Kuroo began, perching his elbows on the table and resting his head – decked out with a grin – on his folded hands. He waited for Kageyama to slide into the booth seat opposite him, questioning the bright smile directed his way.

“So...?” Kageyama raised an eyebrow, fiddling with one of the plastic menus.

“First year and almost a regular on the team, huh?”

Kageyama’s cheeks pinked a bit and he averted his eyes, scanning the menu instead without reading a word. “Maybe,” he mumbled. “Not there yet, though.”

“It’s still pretty big.” Kuroo leaned back in his seat. “Bokuto didn’t even become a regular until half way through second year. You’re almost there already.”

“ ‘Almost’ still isn’t, y’know... _there_.”

“Yeah, but it’s within reach, you just gotta keep working at it.”

Kageyama nodded along. The margin between success and failure was thin, and it was far too easy for him to fall just short. It was exciting, knowing he was so close and that friends and coaches were impressed by his level of skill already, but it was nerve-wracking knowing how much they expected from him, and how much he expected from himself.

“Hey.” Kuroo reached across the table and flipped Kageyama’s menu down, and Kageyama went tense, thinking for a moment that Kuroo was going to grab his hand. “You’ve gotten farther than some of us could ever do in your position. Be proud of that.”

“I am,” Kageyama said, still unable to meet Kuroo’s eyes or even his chin at this point, pulling his hand away from the electric air that had webbed between them, settling it in his lap.

The waitress came over in time to cut the awkward air Kageyama was choking on to take their orders. Kageyama wasted no time and ordered the same thing as last time, but Kuroo however struck up a conversation about her opinions on his choices so he could make a final decision.

Kageyama tuned them out quickly, backtracking to the last thing Kuroo said, and furrowed his brows. Once she left, he asked, “Why aren’t you on the team?” It’s not like Kuroo wasn’t a great player, even in their casual games where rules were seen more as guidelines.

Kuroo shrugged. “It would be hard. Don’t get me wrong, I love volleyball – it’s why I still play it for fun sometimes – but being on the team while also working a job and going to school full time would just be too hard.”

Kageyama nodded, but the idea of having to give up volleyball was near sickening. He’d sooner give up school and a job than even entertain the idea of giving up volleyball.

Kuroo laughed at Kageyama’s deep frown. “Hey, it’s not that big a deal to me. I still get to play for fun if I want to, I’m not missing out on much. Besides, we’re not here to talk about me not playing. How have your parents taken the good news?”

“I haven’t told them.”

“Still avoiding them?” Kuroo asked and he nodded. He had no intention to tell them, knowing he’d only be met with forced joy on his mother’s part and another lecture from his father to focus more on his studies than on volleyball.

Sensing Kageyama’s discomfort about having to talk about his parents, Kuroo changed the subject to something lighter – a story about how Bokuto once designed an entire plane drunk before passing out on the bathroom floor – and the conversation fell into a comfortable lull.

Kageyama only half paid attention; instead of paying attention to the content, he took the time to appreciate the way Kuroo told it. Each wave of the hand, knock on the table. The way Kuroo would try to reign in a smile, but it’d still pull up on one side and his cheeks would dip ever so slightly with a dimple. The light, airy laughs right before Kuroo described in excruciating, hilarious detail just how drunk Bokuto was and just how far his head was in the toilet, how Kuroo would always try to wipe away his smile with one hand, but it’d return full force in the next second.

It was devastating how attractive Kageyama found Kuroo, now more so than ever when they found themselves alone without school work to focus on. When Kuroo ran his hand through his thick, messy hair, Kageyama offhandedly wondered what it’d feel like to run his own fingers through it.

Not entirely admitting it to himself, Kageyama actually did think about how Kuroo felt in a lot of ways. Kageyama had the pleasure of knowing Kuroo in a more intimate way than he thought normal friends – especially those that didn’t know each other for long – would, but being his dance partner and the inability of the group hailing a larger cab forced him in much closer quarters, not that he was complaining. And their little moment by the pool, albeit short and hazy, had latched onto the walls inside his head and refused to let go, no matter how much he tossed and turned at night.

Before Kageyama could fully realize that his thoughts were toeing a dangerous line, the waitress interrupted Kuroo’s story and Kageyama’s daydreaming with much-welcomed food. From there on, the conversation turned to various simple topics that kept Kageyama’s thoughts on the subject at hand and less on the hands of the subject across the table. Talking about volleyball did that for Kageyama.

When their plates were emptier and the porcelain was finally visible through their mountains of fries, Kuroo received a text.

“Matsukawa’s asking if we wanna come over after to sesh,” Kuroo said, putting down his fork and picking up his phone sitting on the table.

“Uh...?” Kageyama picked at a fry.

Kuroo laughed. “He means smoke weed, but we can just hang out.”

Kuroo always wanted to make sure Kageyama didn’t feel pressure to do anything he didn’t want to, but still felt welcome to join them any time. It didn’t translate entirely to Kageyama, but the fact he was invited at all still elated him, and he agreed quickly with a gradually enthusiastic nod.

Kuroo flashed him a smile and Kageyama turned back to his food with reddened cheeks, thankful Kuroo turned back to his phone to reply. They continued the rest of the meal in comfortable silence, Kageyama stuffing his mouth with whatever was left so his foot wouldn’t fit in there should he be expected to speak.

Unfortunately – or fortunately, as Kageyama was rapidly beginning to realize – his nervous eating was messy, and his face may be filled with food but some sauce had found its way to the outside, little flecks sitting on his puffed cheeks.

 _Shit_ , Kuroo thought, watching, his own cheeks flecked with tinges of pink, _that’s cute_. Kageyama remained unaware of both Kuroo and the food on his face, focused entirely on the flutter of his stomach he guessed wasn’t the burger _or_ the fries. Kuroo smiled gently to himself.

“Here,” he said, picking up a flimsy paper napkin and leaning across the table, “you got a little somethin’.”

Kageyama stopped mid chew, trying to process what the hell was going on and staring at Kuroo a little wide-eyed. One firm and a half gentle wipe after to catch anything he may have missed, Kuroo pulled back with a smile. Kageyama looked confused and a little like he was caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Kageyama’s eyes darted from Kuroo to the napkin and back again, making sense of the situation.

“Damn, kid,” he laughed, balling up the napkin, “do you ever eat at your dorm?”

Kageyama blushed, a little embarrassed at his grubby display of thinly veiled nerves disguised as hunger, but more embarrassed by the fact Kuroo had to clean him up. He was most embarrassed, though, by the fact he even _found_ himself embarrassed from Kuroo touching him. The longer he spent with Kuroo alone, without the distractions of the group or even Bokuto, the more he noticed how handsome Kuroo was and how sweaty his own palms became. How his heart fluttered against his ribcage, how he couldn’t quite meet his eyes anymore when he was the only one for Kuroo to devote his attention to, how he wished he was sitting on that side of the booth with him.

“Anyway,” Kuroo said, dusting off his hands, “all done?” Kageyama nodded and earned a smile in return. “Let’s go then.”

 

 

 

Matsukawa’s house was known ‘round his neighbourhood as a “party house”, which was saying something as it was smack dab in the middle of a small housing complex packed with students. Though it was rare there was ever an actual party there, he almost never locked the door. There was always and endless stream of friends and acquaintances through his house, there to hang out or even crash for the night. A safe haven for slacker students.

The massive living room was separated by an equally massive L-shaped couch; the dining table was littered with notebooks, textbooks, and various philosophy books, broken up by scattered rolling papers and the odd lighter or two. The whole house was a hodge-podge of everything Matsukawa, from the bohemian motif, the shelf of rather intricate bongs, and a sectional bookcase filled with more philosophy books, small imitation busts of philosophers, and a stereo.

A skunky smell hit Kageyama the second he walked in, despite a back patio door being left open to let the stench out and fresh air in. The rest of the group was already here, lounging around the couch that could easily fit 15 people and spread out on the carpet.

Matsukawa gave a languid wave at their entrance. “Hey.” The others followed in their own half hearted greetings.

Kuroo ushered Kageyama in, the pair toeing off their shows despite the fact that the carpet looked like dirt and, curiously, cat nip was ground into the fibers on the daily. Kageyama, not being completely naive, knew that the putrid smell that wrinkled his nose was weed – he _did_ go to a high school after all – and found seconds later that he was right.

Matsukawa sat cross legged on the floor, packing a piece for a clean bong with steady hands and an unparalleled focus, while the others passed around an already lit joint. Thick smoke trailed from the end, perched in Hanamaki’s hand as he leaned against Matsukawa’s back. Gentle music playing quietly over the stereo that sat between an incense burner and the bust of an old man Kageyama didn’t recognize.

Kageyama sat down on the edge of the couch and Kuroo flopped between him and Bokuto, where he sat on the floor, moaning about something that happened earlier that day on campus.

“She was hot, I just don’t... get it? How... why would she shoot me down that fast... who does that...”

“Someone with taste,” Akaashi said, stretched out on the perpendicular length of couch and propped up on one arm. Yaku snorted, batting away Akaashi’s feet as he tried to extend his legs over his lap.

“Does that mean you have no taste?” he asked, digging his hand into a chip bag.

“Mistakes were made.”

“Akaashi!” Bokuto rolled his head to wail in his direction like a petulant child. “I’m hurt! How could you...”

“Oh come on,” Kuroo began, snapping his fingers at Matsukawa to get him to pass the bong over now that it was ready. “He’s really not _that_ bad.”

Bokuto smacked Kuroo’s leg, the reaction only a little delayed and nowhere near as devastating as they’d normally be from a star spiker. His arm fell over his eyes and he sprawled himself across Kuroo’s lap dramatically, Kuroo needing to raise his hands and the bong now in them to avoid getting slapped. “No one appreciates me around here.”

No one indulged Bokuto in his melodrama, so he turned to Kageyama, his red eyes meeting Kageyama’s wide ones, sudden and serious. “What about you?”

Kageyama shrugged in confusion, looking to the others for an answer, but they proved no help. “What about me?”

Bokuto huffed and rolled over so he could flop himself in Kageyama’s lap, legs tucked under him on the floor like a sad dog by a fire. “You appreciate me, right, Kageyama?” he mumbled.

“I...” Kageyama looked around again for any guidance, but Kuroo, being the only sober one around, just offered him a grin before searching for a lighter. Kageyama quickly wracked his brain for some answer that wouldn’t complete insult Bokuto. “Like... setting for you...?”

“Ha!” Yaku laughed.

Matsukawa hissed. “Ooh... ouch.”

Bokuto opened his mouth to complain but before he could get a word out, Kuroo pushed him off Kageyama’s lap with a palm to the forehead, and he slid off with little resistance and little complaint. He leaned across Kageyama’s lap to reach the lighter sitting by Yaku, and Kageyama backed right up into the couch cushion to give him more room than he could’ve ever needed.

The great urge to wrap his arms around Kuroo’s neck, the tendon in it only just visible beneath tan skin, and bury his face there was near frightening. The urge to push Kuroo away the same way he did Bokuto was a close second, especially when this close the skunky smell of marijuana didn’t overpower the warm, earthy smell of Kuroo. Kageyama swallowed hard.

Kuroo pulled back and Kageyama could breathe again without his face growing warm. With that rather worrisome moment passing, Kageyama watched Kuroo get comfortable again with bong and lighter in hand, ready.

Kuroo noticed this, at least, and held it up a bit in an unspoken offer. Yaku, however, _also_ noticed this and practically leapt across the corner of the couch, nearly falling on top of Kageyama but instead landing on his elbows beside him. Kageyama startled, and began wondering when the hell he became Grand Central Station for everyone.

“Hey,” Yaku began, sitting up straight once again now that he had Kageyama’s attention. “ _You_ stay away from _that_.” He pointed at Kuroo still holding the bong. “ _And_ what it’s holding.”

“Hey.” Kuroo frowned, Hanamaki and Matsukawa snickering from their place on the carpet.

“Yaku, you really can’t talk,” Hanamaki said, not even bothering to turn around to look at him.

“Yeah, he’s not gonna be like you,” Matsukawa continued, “yelling at fast food managers at 4 in the morning for giving Bokuto only five nuggets instead of six.”

“A tragedy...” Bokuto sighed.

“You _ate_ the sixth one.”

“It was a tragedy I forgot, then.” Bokuto glared at the near unaffected duo. “Yaku’s got my back.” He reached up and behind him to pat the vicinity in which Yaku was sitting.

While the four of them discussed the nature in which Yaku gets surprisingly territorial while high, much like a mother bear, if bears went to McDonald’s, Kuroo turned back to Kageyama.

“You don’t have to, it’s just an offer. Akaashi seems pretty sober tonight.”

“I’m enjoying the show,” Akaashi commented, nodding towards Bokuto sprawling across the floor to try and reach Hanamaki, holding a bag of crushed chips just out of reach.

Kageyama shrugged, pulling his sleeves further over his hands to pick at the pills on the cuffs. He eyed the bong a little wearily, intimidated by it. He went to high school, sure, he could recognize the _smell_ , and, not being completely sheltered, he knew what one looked like, but that was about the extent of his knowledge. He’d been offered exactly zero chances to ever get up close and personal with one and figure out just how to use it. That is, up until now.

Kuroo laughed at the way Kageyama unknowingly worried his lip between his teeth and his brows furrowed like he was trying to do Bokuto’s homework. “Here, just watch me, it’s easy.”

Kageyama nodded and watched with the same intense focus he was known for as Kuroo placed his mouth firmly inside the mouthpiece. The lighter flickered to life and lit the packed piece, and the long, cylindrical chamber filled with a thick smoke, the small pool of water in the bowl bubbling with the effort. After a moment, Kuroo removed the piece and smoke slowly filtered out of the little hole. The thick white smoke disappeared quicker than Kageyama expected and Kuroo pulled away again. After another few seconds, Kuroo exhaled a cloud of smoke and shrugged. “See? Not too bad.”

Kageyama’s mouth quirked to the side, still a little unsure. “Look,” Kuroo said, “if you’re still a little nervous, I’ll work the piece for you. All you gotta do is inhale, hold, and exhale. Sounds good?”

Kageyama nodded, resolve steeled. With Kuroo helping, and his gentle, reassuring smile, Kageyama felt better prepared and less nervous than he did before. He watched Kuroo closely enough to take the bong from him, albeit a little gingerly. It wasn’t as light as he thought it’d be, considering this particularly one was made of glass. Afraid of somehow breaking it, he cradled the bowl for extra insurance.

Imitating Kuroo, Kageyama placed his mouth inside the rim and waited. Kuroo lit the piece and smoke filled the chamber and he inhaled, just as Kuroo did. Kuroo, surprised by Kageyama’s impressive lung capacity, removed the piece, and once all the smoke cleared from the chamber, he took it away from Kageyama.

Kuroo laughed; Kageyama’s nose was scrunched up and his cheeks were puffed up while he held his breath. Kageyama tried to let the smoke out the way Kuroo had, smooth and kind of cool, but the second he tried, he coughed out a cloud, and after the first few coughs, he just couldn’t stop. Kuroo tried rubbing his back to soothe his coughing fit, but Kageyama waved him off, trying to communicate that he was just fine, though he couldn’t say it with words.

Kageyama made a face, a foul taste left in his mouth that he wish he could spit out and absolutely no high feeling. Just a mellow, light-headed feeling he could sooner attribute to holding his breath.

Kuroo took another hit while Kageyama coughed it out, and Kageyama waited with a frown. He felt nothing, did he just not do it right? He thought he did what Kuroo said, but he felt relatively nothing. What a waste.

He reached for the bong again, frown still in place, and took another hit, with the same disappointing result: nothing.

Kuroo took it away again and passed it to Matsukawa. “Easy there.”

“I don’t get it,” Kageyama mumbled. “I don’t feel anything.”

“You will, just give it a few minutes,” Kuroo assured him, but Kageyama still pouted, sure he did something wrong.

The only thing he did wrong, however, was gauge how hard it was going to hit him after just a few minutes. Tired and heavy, Kageyama slumped back into the couch. Time crawled along much slower, spaces between light conversation stretching for hours. The awful, burnt herbal taste that lingered on his tongue was long gone and replaced by an extreme appetite.

The others idly chatted but he seemed far enough removed. The only thing that caught Kageyama’s attention was discussion of ordering pizza, but he didn’t bother joining in.

“No one’s picking it up in _my_ car,” Akaashi said. “Just order delivery.”

“Delivery takes so much longer, though,” Bokuto whined.

Kageyama could go for pizza. He could go for an entire medium sized pizza by himself, or a large. Extra cheese, extra pepperoni. What would it be, like, forty minutes wait? That seemed like a long time, maybe Hanamaki still had those chips. Maybe he could nap while waiting.

By the time he tuned back in, Matsukawa had already called and ordered.

“Where is it,” Bokuto whined, drawing out his words and stretching across the floor. “Hasn’t it been, like, an hour?”

“Bo, it’s been 7 minutes,” Kuroo said, poking him with his foot. Kageyama would’ve agreed with Bokuto, but if Kuroo was telling the truth – and honestly, he trusted Kuroo’s judgment leagues more than he trusted his own or Bokuto’s – then the wait would be a long one.

Kageyama slid across the side of the couch and leaned against Kuroo’s shoulder, tired and comfortable and not totally aware of exactly what he was doing and whose space he was invading. He nestled in a bit and got comfortable for the long wait.

Kuroo, with a much higher tolerance, was fully aware of what Kageyama was doing and went stiff for a moment. Matsukawa burst into a deep, belly laugh at the sight and Kuroo loudly shushed him and waved him off, hoping his face wasn’t as red as it felt. He shifted a bit so Kageyama rested more comfortably in the crook of his neck, softly and carefully putting his arm around him for support.

Kageyama already seemed to be fast asleep, if the small, steady puffs Kuroo felt on his neck – the ones that made his skin crawl and his legs stretch – was any indication. It was kinda cute, though, and he couldn’t help but smile gently to himself.

“Comfy?” Hanamaki asked with a wicked grin.

“Ha ha, shut up.” He _was_ comfortable, and he didn’t even move when the pizza came and the others descended upon it like a flock of inebriated vultures. He made sure no one was looking when he pulled Kageyama in a little closer to his side.

 

 

 

The next morning, Kageyama was a little embarrassed about passing out so quickly and easily the night before, but was also thankful that sleep had come that _quickly_ and _easily_. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been able to just fall asleep without the battle with his blankets and the staring matches with his alarm clock. It wasn’t the most restful sleep, sure – he was woken up sometime to be moved to Akaashi’s car, where he was driven home and seen to his dorm – but it was sleep nonetheless, and he’d take anything at this point.

Though he did miss the pizza.

But he felt more alert today than he had over the past week, and was looking forward to a night out again. Feeling a little guilty that he was taking _two_ nights off from studying, he decided to at least look over his notes a bit, if only to make up for that abysmal test.

He spent the day quietly reading, taking breaks whenever he got bored, which was frequent, to watch volleyball videos and even a mindless movie online. His mother called sometime in the afternoon, but he ignored it waiting another half hour before he checked his voicemail.

“Tobio,” his mother sighed over the machine, “you haven’t talked to us in a week. I know you’re studying, but what else is going on? Your father isn’t happy – give him a call, okay dear? And eat properly! I don’t want to hear anything more about instant ramen or burgers, okay? Would it kill you to have some chicken or a salad once in a while? Alright, I’ll let you go now, hon; talk to your father later, and hope to hear from you soon. Love you.”

Kageyama sighed heavily, throwing his phone on to his bed and slumping down in his desk chair. He thought that giving them excuses over the week would quell his father’s temper long enough to not go snooping around, but it sounded as if his fuse was shortening. He’d have to give him a call tomorrow, not having enough time to do it tonight and not wanting to do it now.

A little worried, he could no longer focus on studying and decided to change out of his sweats and walk over to Kuroo and Bokuto’s, texting them along the way that he’d meet them at their place.

“Hey,” Kuroo greeted, opening the door wider for the other to step inside. “What’s up? Missed us already?”

Kageyama just shrugged. “Got bored.”

“Makes sense.” Kuroo closed the door and flopped back down on the couch. “How’s your day off going?”

“Been studying.” Kageyama flopped beside him, watching the movie that played quietly on the television. “You?”

“Pretty much the same thing. I’ve got a test coming up at the end of next week, so I’ve been rereading the last few chapters.”

“Rereading?”

Kuroo shrugged but couldn’t fight the grin. “I kind of already read my textbooks. Makes not paying attention in class a whole lot easier.”

Kageyama shoved him with his shoulder, but a small smile still pulled at his mouth. They talked quietly on commercial breaks of the movie and he explained what Kageyama missed, his arms stretched over the back of the couch and enjoying the quiet moment.

“Hey, we taking a cab?” Bokuto asked, rounding the corner.

“I think s- BO.” Kuroo grabbed Kageyama, reaching around to shield his blessedly pure eyes from the sight of Bokuto stark naked and facing them. Being that they were sitting down, and Bokuto was standing up... Kuroo was avoiding Kageyama getting a facefull of Bokuto’s uncovered dick.

“What?” Bokuto asked, shrugging nonchalantly.

“PUT ON SOME PANTS.”

“Oh,” he laughed, “my bad. I’ll be back in a second.”

Kageyama pushed against Kuroo’s chest where his face had been pulled to and buried, Kuroo keeping a death grip on his head. Before he’d been violently whipped around, all he’d seen was a fleshy blur, but judging by what Kuroo was yelling after Bokuto, he was grateful that’s _all_ he’d seen.

However, he was being suffocated in Kuroo’s warm chest, and he couldn’t decide whether to push away and live or accept being granted such a wonderful death. He chose pushing and muffled yelling.

“Oh!” Kuroo let go of him once he heard Bokuto’s door close. “Sorry, kid. You okay?”

Kageyama nodded and shuffled away on the couch, embarrassed that he even considered just being suffocated if it meant he could stay there. Kuroo took it differently though, and wilted a little, fearing he hurt Kageyama. “Sorry ‘bout that. Just trying to protect you from _that_.” He nodded at Bokuto, now back in the living room and fully clothed.

Kageyama smiled a little and Kuroo just about melted. “Thanks. I didn’t want to have to bleach my eyes.”

“Hey!” Bokuto yelled.

 

 

 

Their night was in full swing and Kageyama was already a good two drinks in and on his third, feeling comfortable. He even talked a little with Saeko on how school was going, dodging the question about marks and instead focusing on how boring classes could get and how intense volleyball was. Saeko even shared a few stories with him in between making drinks for customers, like the time she set her shoe on fire in class out of boredom and was written up as a result.

In no time at all, Kageyama’s worries about his father and his test fell to the wayside and he could enjoy his night out with friends. He danced a little with Kuroo, but kept mostly to the bar, feeling much more sociable than he ever had, save for last Saturday when he tried a little speed. That was an exception, though.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he went to check it, seeing he had three missed calls.

From his father.

His heart plummeted into his stomach and disturbed the growing storm below.

“I gotta take this,” he said, excusing himself to push his way through the sweaty crowd and out the doors of the club, stepping off to the side and away from the lineup on the sidewalk. When the bass wasn’t loud enough to drown out the pounding of his heart, he dialed his father back and tapped his foot impatiently, folding his free arm across his chest. The neon sign for the club flickered overhead as the phone rang and rang.

Back in the club, Kuroo made his way back to the bar to find Kageyama missing.

“Hey,” he tapped Akaashi on the shoulder, interrupting his conversation with Saeko, “where’s Kageyama?”

“He had to step out,” Saeko answered, leaning across the bar on her elbows so she didn’t have to yell too loudly over the music. “Had to take a call or something.”

Kuroo nodded. “I think I’ll go out for a smoke.”

Saeko reached across the bar, having to hop up onto it on her stomach to grab the hem of Kuroo’s shirt and pull him back. “I’m watching you, Kuroo.”

“Does everyone here just have _that_ bad of an opinion of me?”

Saeko smacked his arm and pointed at him. “I’m serious, I know that kid and I know _you_. Be nice.”

“I’m nice!”

Saeko rolled her eyes and hopped back down, turning back to Akaashi and letting Kuroo go, free to find his way through the thick crowd and out the front doors.

He really was intending on having a smoke while out here, he just thought he could also use the time to find Kageyama, like the lovestruck puppy he was turning out to be.

Pulling his cigarettes out and perching one in between his lips, he spotted Kageyama a way’s away on the phone, upset.

“Listen, it was _one_ test, Dad!” Kageyama yelled into the receiver, voice breaking from straining around the growing lump in his throat. His invasive father, of course, knew all the passwords to his school accounts, and had grown suspicious of his son’s evasive behaviour and gone looking. Kageyama knew he’d regret making a list of all passwords, but his parents had made him, much to his chagrin.

His father’s suspicions were rightfully found when he discovered an updated test mark to be well below his expectations, and he was absolutely furious.

Kageyama could barely get a word in above all the yelling and threats to pull him out of volleyball or out of school altogether. “Dad, _please_ just listen to me! I’ve been studying my _ass_ off, I just did bad on one te- Dad! You’re not- I’m not ignoring it!”

Unable to get his father to listen to reason, he hung up on Tobio with another threat that they’d talk about this soon without so much as a goodbye.

“Hey,” Kuroo said softly, approaching the boy, “you okay?”

The good feeling had been sucked right out of his chest and replaced with lead. He didn’t know what to think of what was to happen, and didn’t want to think.

“Let’s...” he started, taking a deep, shaky breath and shaking the thoughts from his head. “Let’s just go inside.” He needed another drink or ten and a whole lot of time with Kuroo.

Worried about Kageyama, Kuroo allowed himself to be dragged by the arm back through the doors and the crowd and to the bar, where Kageyama grabbed Hanamaki’s drink right off the bar top and downed it without even asking.

“What’s with him?” he asked Kuroo, watching Kageyama do the same thing to Matsukawa. Kuroo just shook his head in response, face serious and sullen.

Now five drinks in him, Kuroo dutifully followed him out to the belly of the dance floor. He was concerned – Kageyama was drinking too much and too fast and refused to even talk to him about what that was all about, though he knew it couldn’t be anything good. He’d never seen the other so upset.

Once Kageyama had found the thickest part of the dance floor he stopped and turned back around to face Kuroo.

“Hey,” Kuroo shouted over the music and the crowd, “did you want to talk about it?”

Kageyama shook his head intensely, and Kuroo quieted him, rubbing up and down his arms. “Okay, it’s okay, you don’t have to. Did you... wanna dance?” Kageyama nodded in response, still not meeting Kuroo’s eyes, but desperately just wanting to make the boy feel better and take his mind off what was troubling him, he placed his hands on either side of Kageyama’s waist and began to move, gently, carefully. Kageyama followed along, and soon enough they were back into the normal swing of their hips and thoughts of his father and his threats melted off and slithered back through the crowd and out the doors.

Kageyama calmed when the tempo of the music did, body pressed snug to Kuroo’s own, warm and safe and comfortable. Worn hands kept him sturdy as lights rippled across the moving sea of bodies, where they found themselves dead center.

Kuroo soothed his sides, Kageyama’s shirt catching on his hands and he felt shocked when his pinky was just able to graze the searing skin of Kageyama’s waist. Coloured lights danced across Kageyama’s face, and when Kageyama dared to look up and right into Kuroo’s eyes, the breath was stolen right from his chest, warmth spreading from his palms, lost in this dream state.

The electric pull was something neither of them could resist. Kuroo leaned down, noses bumping and brushing, and, with only a second’s hesitation, he sealed his lips with Kageyama’s soft ones. Kageyama’s hands clutched the sleeve of Kuroo’s shirt, pulling him closer until they were as flush as their faces, Kuroo’s hands smoothing along to the small of Kageyama’s back and tilting his head to further deepen the kiss.

Unbeknownst to the pair, Yaku could see them through the thick crowd of dancers, between flashing lights and thumping bass, share a kiss so soft and firm and passionate even from where he was standing, and dread washed over him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im crying im a big baby
> 
> anyways thanks all for comments and kudos theres been such a great response that here's this chapter a week early than usual!! (and a week later than i actually wanted to post it!!) comments rly motivate me to keep going and to update sooner, so please leave one if you'd like
> 
> as always u can talk to me over on tumblr @tobieaux or twitter @bewarebzou (for bonus clubbin au shennanigans)
> 
> playlist is up for anyone interested! https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLJlnr2QnTDg-EcYbRw7gildh6dBwdo9xr


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this was later than intended :') im pretty rusty when it comes to writing this stuff
> 
> no song suggestion this week! (don't know if anyone actually takes them!) of course, they're just suggestions for readers to listen at their own leisure - by no means is it necessary to listen to while reading (i know it can be difficult for some)  
> so instead i'm promoting the whole playlist, which you can listen to at https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLJlnr2QnTDg-EcYbRw7gildh6dBwdo9xr

Shed clothes littered the hardwood floor between Kuroo’s front door and his bedroom. Kageyama peeled his sweater over his head between searing kisses, Kuroo chasing his mouth every time he pulled back to gasp. Kageyama made the sweetest, smallest noises in the back of his throat every time Kuroo caught him again with another hungry kiss, thumbing over the apples of Kageyama’s cheeks and pushing him further into the wall of their entryway.

Kuroo could happily get lost in the storm of Kageyama’s eyes, dark pupils swallowing an ocean, kissing Kageyama like he was a drowning man in need of air. Kageyama tugged at the hem of Kuroo’s shirt, pulling it from his pants and Kuroo reached for his nape and hooked it over his head, discarding it.

“Shit...” Kageyama breathed, eyes and hands roving over the newly revealed expanse of taut, tan skin, smoothing along pecs and a tight stomach, tracing the tattoos and, finally, _blessedly_ , able to graze the calloused tips of his fingers along the trail of hair that disappeared under Kuroo’s belt, fingers tapering off at the buckle.

Kuroo watched Kageyama utterly enamoured, smile spreading swift and wide across his face and laughing, breathy and quiet, while the boy traced his tattoos back up his chest and branch out and over his arms, kissing him again through a grin. It started sweeter, slower, much like the one they shared at the club, but grew heated and biting and near desperate, Kuroo drunk on more than just alcohol.

Pushing and pulling each other further into the apartment, Kageyama pulled off his t-shirt and flung it with gusto into the living room on their way, finding it wonderfully and excitingly difficult to get Kuroo to pull away long enough to do so. He couldn’t fight off the bright, beautiful grin, pulling Kuroo in for another deep kiss and tangling his fingers in his soft, thick hair.

Kuroo backed Kageyama right into his bedroom door, fumbling with the handle momentarily, finding it near impossible to peel his hands from Kageyama’s soft waist and back or tear his lips away from Kageyama’s warm, pliant ones.

Both stumbled into Kuroo’s room when he finally got the door open, and Kuroo shut it with his foot without so much as a look behind. Kageyama hooked his fingers in the belt loops of Kuroo’s jeans, wiggling them in next to the belt, and pulled until their hips were flush, gasping and groaning when he felt the very real and very solid curve of Kuroo’s cock through his jeans.

Kageyama couldn’t help the lush roll of his hips even if he wanted to, growing giddy when that earned him a delightful groan from Kuroo. He was slowly backed further into the room until the backs of his knees hit Kuroo’s mattress and he gave in, bouncing slightly when he sat.

Kageyama ran his hands along the slight point to Kuroo’s hips, rounding back to his strong abdomen and tantalizing happy trail, settling back over the buckle of Kuroo’s belt with a shiver. A tremor wracked his hands as he tried to slide the leather through the metal, buzzed more with anticipation than with alcohol at this point, the thought to ask lost in his whirlwind of excitement.

If Kuroo wasn’t already as hard as he was, that sight would’ve surely done it for him. He didn’t even give Kageyama the chance to live out his fantasy of sealing his mouth to the skin just above Kuroo’s waistband, surprising the boy by picking him up by the waist and tossing him a little further up the bed as gently as he could with the adrenaline pumping through his veins.

Kageyama had little time to recover before he felt Kuroo’s hands sink into the bed by his head when Kuroo crawled up after him, leaning in just as Kageyama propped himself up on his elbows to catch him in a deep kiss.

Kuroo’s hands were deft, quickly unfastening the buttons of Kageyama’s pants when he dipped his head into the crook of Kageyama’s neck, leaving languid but deep bites and kisses. He only pulled away again to push Kageyama’s jeans down his hips and off his feet when Kuroo was struck with a breathtaking sight.

Kageyama lay there, white sheets pooling around him in stark contrast to his tan skin, city lights streaming through his open blinds to cast pale stripes over his shadowed chest, rising and falling with heavy breaths, ribs only just visible beneath the skin pulled tight over them. He ran his hands up Kageyama’s supple, trembling thighs, creeping up to the tight, black briefs, now tenting from Kageyama’s stiffening cock.

Kageyama made a questioning noise when Kuroo stopped just short of the hem of his briefs and stared.

“Do you... I-I mean. Are you sure you want to?” Kuroo breathed. “Want to do this?”

Kageyama nodded, reaching out to run his hands up Kuroo’s rough jeans. Kuroo stopped his hands gently with his own. “Kageyama,” he began softly, and maybe a little nervous, squeezing the boy’s hands ever so slightly. “I need to hear you say it.”

“Kuroo...” Kageyama whispered, breathy and low, canting his hips up, “fuck me...”

Those two simple words replaced Kuroo’s blood with lighter fluid and set him ablaze. More than happy to comply, he pressed a firm, hungry, deep kiss to Kageyama’s mouth, groaning and rolling his hips down and into the other’s when Kageyama keened, high and surprised in the back of his throat. Kuroo bit Kageyama’s lower lip and pulled away with it, plump between his teeth, before trailing kisses and nips down Kageyama’s jaw and in the space where it meets neck.

Kageyama moaned quietly in his throat, caught there and silenced before it could pass his lips. He raised his hips, squeezing Kuroo’s upper arms, biting his lip and groaning the deeper Kuroo sucked a hickey into his neck.

Kuroo wasted little time in making his way down Kageyama’s neck, chest, and stomach, leaving chaste but excited kisses in his wake. He pulled at the waistband of Kageyama’s boxers and slipped them off, catching a bit on Kageyama’s now fully hard dick.

Kageyama sucked in a breath, trying to hold another moan in his chest and grabbing at Kuroo’s shoulder, too overwhelmed to think about where his hands should be. Kuroo showed no embarrassment whatsoever when he pressed soft kisses along the insides of Kageyama’s thighs and groin, so Kageyama provided more than enough for them both, face hot and breathing rapid. The hand on Kuroo’s shoulder slid its way into his unruly hair, his other arm coming up to hide his ever reddening face. Kageyama keened, desperate and quiet in his throat, when Kuroo kissed up the length of Kageyama’s cock, raising his hips an inch or two up off the mattress only for Kuroo to grab them firmly and hold him back down again, licking from base to tip.

Kageyama’s thighs trembled, skin warm and sticky with sweat. He gasped, loud and shuddering up his back, when Kuroo finally took Kageyama’s cockhead into his warm, wet mouth. Kageyama was usually not on the receiving end, so when Kuroo sank down further with a hum, he couldn’t help but widen his quivering legs, toes curling in the sheets.

Kuroo soothed the tremor from Kageyama’s thighs, rubbing them slow and gentle while he sucked him off. Kageyama bit his lip hard in an effort to fight the guttural moan bubbling up his throat, whining Kuroo’s name, quiet and desperate.

Kuroo moaned around Kageyama to his own surprise, but everything Kageyama did was like he was pouring gas on a flame. He hooked his hands under Kageyama’s thighs, silken flesh spilling between his fingers and their firm grip. He pulled off, kissing his way back down and leaving eager bites along the insides of his thighs, hoisting them over his shoulders.

Kageyama tightened his legs a bit around Kuroo’s neck, pulling him closer. Kuroo rolled Kageyama’s hips back enough to reveal his sweet little hole. Akaashi may have tried to humiliate him weeks ago, but Kuroo couldn’t help the little wave of excitement that rolled down his back, down his arms, and out the tips of his fingers when he could finally lick a broad, hot swipe against Kageyama’s entrance.

Kageyama’s slept with two people before this, but this was a first for him and he jolted. Not needing more than half a second to decide that it felt unbelievably good, he pushed his hips back and down into Kuroo’s face.

Kuroo braced Kageyama’s thighs so he couldn’t rut up against his face unexpectedly again, which earned him a distraught whine he couldn’t help but grin at, kissing the puckered skin and sucking on the rim.

Kageyama pulled at the sheets in an effort to avoid pulling at Kuroo’s hair, turning to hide his red-hot face into the pillow. Kuroo looked up, and coupled with the slightly awkward angle, decided it best to pull away after another harsh suck.

He let Kageyama’s legs fall from his shoulders and pressed a deep kiss to his lips, red and swollen already from all the biting and just couldn’t resist giving them a little nip himself. He persuaded Kageyama to roll over on his stomach as carefully as he could despite his barely contained eagerness, peppering kisses from one shoulder to another and gently squeezing his ass.

Kuroo leaned up and over Kageyama’s shoulder to speak quietly in his ear, a little breathless and very hot. “You okay?”

Kageyama nodded, making a small, affirmative noise in his throat and Kuroo’s heart fluttered. He kissed Kageyama’s ear lobe, just a soft, small peck, then stretched to reach his bedside drawer. Kageyama squirmed a bit, dragging the sheets from the corners of the mattress when Kuroo retrieved a little bottle and a condom, tossing them on the bed and shutting the drawer again.

Kuroo kissed his shoulder again, running his hands down Kageyama’s sides and squeezing his hips lightly. His lips followed, pressing soft, lingering kisses down Kageyama’s shoulder blades, spine, lower back, until he reached his ass again. He gently bit the flesh there, careful and indulgent.

As enjoyable as that was, Kuroo instead let his hands massage his ass, spreading his cheeks enough so he could continue licking and sucking at the tight ring of muscle in between. Kageyama bit the pillow to stifle a moan when Kuroo pushed just the tip of his tongue in, curling it up against his insides, just to give Kageyama a bit of a taste.

He pulled away again to grab the bottle of lube, pouring a decent amount on to his fingers, warming it up as he pressed tender kisses in the arch of Kageyama’s lower back. Kageyama jumped, biting the inside of his cheek at the first press against his ass.

Kuroo made sure Kageyama was more than ready, circling and rubbing the skin there before screwing his thumb in and drew a quiet, desperate cry from the boy. He ducked down to suck and lap at the rim, slowly and with the utmost care pushing in the first finger.

Kageyama keened, trying his best to relax despite the tremors that wrack his whole body. His mind was overwrought with an entirely new pleasure unknown to him, Kuroo’s tongue wiggling in next to his finger. After a few pumps, Kuroo dared to add a second after one last sloppy kiss, his mouth and chin wet when he pulled away.

He kissed back up Kageyama’s ever-arching back, working his fingers to find his prostate. Kageyama was already moving his hips back in small circles when a shock flashed through his body and he gasped. Kuroo leaned up but nevertheless kept at that spot.

“That good?” he asked, voice breathy and husky. Kageyama nodded eagerly and earned a deep kiss over his shoulder.

Not wanting things to end so quickly, Kuroo kept him on edge and worked on spreading his two fingers before he could finally add a third. Kageyama did his own part in holding his orgasm at bay, trying his best to focus on anything other than how bad he already wanted Kuroo’s cock, as if he didn’t want it before.

Kageyama could barely wait, making desperate little noises and squirming, pulling the sheets taut in his hands, but Kuroo just soothed his sides and kissed his shoulder.

Fighting off the urge to continue stroking inside and indulge himself in the sweet sight of Kageyama writhing against white sheets and beneath blue lights, Kuroo pulled out again, much to the other’s chagrin.

A smile pulled at his mouth, but he made quick work of his forgotten jeans and briefs – only undone up until now – and tore open the condom package. Kageyama dared a look over his shoulder only to be graced with the mouth-watering sight of Kuroo’s stiff cock, thicker than he imagined it’d be and lit a fire in his belly. He groaned and arched his back, raising his ass more, when Kuroo grinned at him and rolled on the condom, lubing himself up more for good measure.

“Ready?” Kuroo asked one last time, lining himself up with Kageyama’s ass and keeping one hand steady on his hip.

Kageyama swallowed, knowing he needed to actually give his verbal consent if he wanted Kuroo to finally fucking sink into him. “Y-yeah,” he strained, voice raw in his throat. Kuroo smiled a surprisingly gentle smile and leaned down again to kiss him, sweet and long.

He surprised Kageyama a second time when he felt the slow, meaty press of Kuroo’s dick at his ass with only a second of resistance. Kageyama gasped and moaned, loud and open, eyes fluttering and rolling back.

Kuroo groaned, inching his way in as slow as he could possibly manage, giving the other a moment to adjust once he was fully seated. When Kageyama wiggled against him with a whine, he laughed – a little breathy – and kissed Kageyama’s shoulder when he started to move, careful.

He braced his arms on either side of Kageyama, caught between rumpled sheets and bare mattress. He kept his thrusts shallow and at a leisurely pace, kissing and biting Kageyama’s shoulders. Kageyama met each thrust with his own, urging Kuroo for _more_ , swearing and pleading under his heavy breath.

From this angle all he got was pressure, a wonderful full feeling that kept him teetering and desperate for something more stimulating. It was just enough to steal the breath from his lungs in little gasps and pants, but not enough to rip it from him in moans and cries, and he _wanted_ that.

With every breathy plea and Kageyama clenching and fluttering around him, Kuroo could barely control himself, moving his hips against the other’s the way he would with flashing lights and pounding bass, rather than streaming light and complaining mattress.

“Kuroo...” Kageyama whined, high in his throat and breaking at the end. “Please...” He emphasized his point by pressing up and back, circling his hips as best he could.

Kuroo inhaled sharp, pressing a feverish kiss to Kageyama’s bitten lips and groaning into the kiss. He pulled out and flipped Kageyama over on his back again, over-eager and adrenaline fueled. Without a second to waste, Kuroo buried himself back in Kageyama’s ass, this time picking up the pace and force slightly.

Kageyama moaned loud, stifling it with another heated kiss and wrapping his arms tight around Kuroo’s shoulders. Kuroo hooked his hands under Kageyama’s knees and pushed them up until his thighs met the bed, too distracted to admire how wonderfully flexible he turned out to be.

With the new angle, Kuroo could hit Kageyama’s prostate dead on with every thrust of his hips, deep and lush and over exhilarating. Kageyama cried out, throwing his head back, and Kuroo moved down to his neck to leave biting kisses among the marks already blooming there.

Kuroo had managed to keep a steady rhythm, but it grew frantic the more Kageyama babbled, curses and prayers tumbling from his lips, interspersed with Kuroo’s own name, wispy and breathless and yet still so urgent, Kageyama’s orgasm barreling towards him at alarming speed.

“Kuroo...” Kageyama moaned, arching his back for a moment, barely audible over the creaks of the mattress and wet slap of skin on skin and Kuroo’s own heavy breathing. “Kuroo, please... I- Oh, god...” Kageyama swallowed thick around his words, unable to form a coherent sentence in his mind, let alone on his tongue. “Fuck, Kuroo, I... I’m gonna come...!”

Kuroo groaned, letting go of one of Kageyama’s legs and letting it fall back to the bed so he could take Kageyama’s cock in one hand and stroke him in time with his thrusts. It was more than enough for Kageyama, though, especially when Kuroo sealed it with a sticky, hot kiss.

Kageyama came quietly, only the smallest gasps and whines able to escape his raw throat, but Kuroo quickly swallowed them up again. His orgasm wracked through his body in powerful tremors, toes curling and eyes squeezing shut. Kuroo fucked him through it, hips stuttering as he neared his own completion minutes later with a quiet moan into the boy’s neck, while Kageyama was still coming down.

Kageyama’s arms slid from Kuroo’s shoulders like dead weight, sinking further into the bed as sleep quickly replaced adrenaline. Kuroo took another minute to catch his breath, pulling away from Kageyama to look at him.

“You okay?” he asked, pushing the sweat soaked hair from Kageyama’s forehead and stroking his cheek gently with a thumb.

Kageyama nodded, exhaustion making his eyelids heavy. Kuroo smiled and kissed him again, soft and sweet, before pulling out and crawling off the bed. Condom disposed in the garbage by his desk, he left and came back not a minute later with a damp towel.

Kageyama hummed, satisfied and tired, when Kuroo sat next to him again and gently wiped the cooling cum from his stomach and cleaned the insides of his thighs, pressing tender kisses along his legs. He dumped the towel in a pile of laundry and lifted Kageyama so he could pull the covers over him.

His heart tugged in his chest while he watched Kageyama curl into the comforter, pulling it up to his chin and turning over on his side. Now that his mind was clear of all distractions, Kuroo could really mull over the nights events.

And he didn’t regret anything he did one bit.

Sliding in next to the boy that was currently pulling at the strings of his heart, Kuroo knew he could – and actively _wanted_ – to get used to this. Wanted to fall asleep next to Kageyama and wake up next to him. Wanted to kiss him and caress his cheek or soothe his sides. Wanted to give him that body trembling, mattress shaking pleasure again and again.

Kuroo wrapped his arms around Kageyama and pulled him close, kissing into the mess of his once neat hair. It seemed Kageyama was already drifting off, mumbling something incoherent into Kuroo’s chest, and when prompted, didn’t respond. Kuroo smiled to himself, nestling Kageyama’s head under his chin for the night.

He could definitely get used to this.

 

 

Kuroo woke up late the next morning, sunlight stretched in stripes across sheets and the naked couple. Kuroo craned his neck to see Kageyama was still fast asleep, curled around him and snoring quietly in the back of his throat. He laid his head back down on the pillow and breathed out a content sigh, squeezing Kageyama a bit to his chest.

Everything still smelled like sweat and sex and unwashed laundry and Kageyama, and the last thing Kuroo wanted to do was move. But after a few minutes of enjoying Kageyama’s soft breathing and peaceful, deep sleep, Kuroo twisted around, straining to see the clock on his nightstand and trying his best not to disturb Kageyama, though he refused to let the boy go.

Unfortunately, it was getting to be late in the day, so he pressed a soft, lingering kiss into Kageyama’s bedhead and pried himself away, being careful not to wake Kageyama up. It was relieving to see him sleeping so soundly, and he wasn’t going to be the one to take that away. However, he was starting to... smell, and neither of them took a shower after everything that happened the night before, so he thought he’d take a quick one before Kageyama woke up.

Not long after Kuroo had turned on the taps and stepped in, though, had Kageyama began to stir, rustling the sheets and groaning when he turned his face directly into the sunlight. He sat up, rubbing his eyes and looking around blearily, squinting and frowning around the room, trying to get his bearings.

Once he started to wake up a little more, looking around the room he figured this wasn’t his own, and last night flooded back into his mind. His face grew hot and he scrubbed at his cheeks in an effort to disperse his embarrassment before flopping back into the bed, face buried in the comforter and bent in half.

He raised his head with a petulant pout and looked around the room, embarrassed despite being alone, but unlike last night, where Kageyama was much too _distracted_ to take in his surroundings, now he found he could.

On the windowsill next to the bed, there was an old coffee mug, yellowing around the rim since it was being used as an ashtray. It sat next to a lighter and a bottle of water, light gently dancing through it.

There was also a surprising amount of textbooks scattered in piles on the floor, pushed off to the sides and corner, after they’d fully taken over the work desk, encroaching on Kuroo’s laptop. Where there wasn’t books, though, there were clothes. Mostly strewn over chairs and closet doors, but there was a rather large pile of rumpled clothing in one corner: the laundry pile.

It looked like there was usually a clear path on the floor for foot traffic, but not even that was safe from shed clothes. It wasn’t until upon further inspection that Kageyama realized half of them were _his_ and he groaned again, burying his face in his hands.

It’s not like he regretted last night – not by any means would he regret it, he genuinely really _really_ liked Kuroo and his stomach was still fluttering at the memory that not only had he gotten the chance to kiss his little crush, but even got to sleep with him in more than one sense of the word. But when the guise of night had long since passed, embarrassment set in. It’s just how he was. He’ll probably remain embarrassed a month from now, well into a relationship with Kuroo. Happy, but embarrassed.

Kageyama scooped down to pick up his discarded briefs from beside the bed and slipped them on, untangling himself from the sheets quickly, as if being naked in Kuroo’s room – albeit, _alone_ – was somehow wrong. He found and then pulled on his jeans after, then went on a search for his shirt or sweater or _something._

He quietly creaked the door open, peeking around the doorjamb up and down the hallway to see if anyone was around. Someone was showering in the bathroom, so he took his chance and tip-toed down the hall to the living room.

“Well,” Bokuto greeted, startling Kageyama, “Good morning.” He was seated with one leg crossed over the other on one of the stools, thankfully wearing underwear but less thankfully grinning through a mouthful of cereal.

Kageyama glared at Bokuto’s knowing, shit-eating grin, trying and failing not to let a blush rise to his cheeks. He didn’t bother satisfying Bokuto’s curiosity with a response, instead turning away to search for his shirt, cast off near the television from the night before.

“So,” Bokuto continued without prompting, spinning in the stool so he could continue to face Kageyama, “how was last night?”

“Good,” Kageyama mumbled after a minute, pulling on his shirt again and refusing to turn around and face Bokuto.

“Thatta boy!” Bokuto said, holding his bowl of cereal in one hand and slapping Kageyama on the back. Hard. Kageyama stuttered, nearly tripping from the force. “It’s fun isn’t it?”

“Um, I guess?” Kageyama said, confused and rubbing his back awkwardly. Like of course sex was fun, he wasn’t _new_ to it. It sort of seemed like an awkward question, and felt the need to press it. “I. I don’t know what... you mean?”

Bokuto just shrugged, leaning back against the counter on his elbows. “You know, like... no strings attached. Just hooking up.”

Kageyama furrowed his brows, fully facing Bokuto now. Bokuto laughed at Kageyama’s confused expression and patted him on the shoulder. “Kuroo used to do this shit all the time. Of course, it’s been a little while since he brought someone home – I mean, he’s got _me_ after all, it’s just convenient, like, I’m right there, one door over. And,” Bokuto leaned in a little, “not to toot my own horn, but I’m pretty damn good.”

Kageyama’s stomach leapt, and not in the same way it did last night. Not a fluttery, happy, _excited_ leap, but a gut wrenching leap off a cliff, heading towards disaster. Confusion and panic rose in his chest. “I don’t follow.”

“I mean, personally that’s how I prefer it,” Bokuto went on, blissfully unaware of Kageyama’s crestfallen look and slumped shoulders. “I don’t like all the messy relationship or gross romantic stuff, y’know? That’s why Kuroo and I work so well together – he doesn’t care that I’m not into all that shit and we’re still best friends and roommates and stuff.”

Kageyama knew about the stuff Kuroo and Bokuto did, and it was a little disheartening at first, but he soon learned that’s just how Bokuto was with a lot of people, and it stopped bothering him. He figured it was sort of a convenient arrangement – Kuroo was single, why not?

But the idea that their arrangement was _not_ specific to just them, that Kuroo would do that with others – with _him_ – did not occur to Kageyama, and his stomach churned.

“It’s just easier, ya know?” Bokuto said, not even looking at Kageyama now but instead scratching his nose with his pinky and staring at it. “Kuroo’s never been too big on all that shit, it works out easier like this for everyone.”

It felt worse than a straight forward rejection. Kageyama felt _played_ , and instead of a burning, white hot anger he always thought he’d feel, instead he just felt betrayed. The fact he was finding out from _Bokuto_ of all people only sapped him further of any sort of elation he felt earlier, and he felt drained. Distantly he heard water shut off, but it was drowned out by the whirlwind of his thoughts.

A quiet panic set into his bones, ringing in his ears and making his world spin. It would’ve been better if it had just been a rejection, he would’ve gotten over that easy without making a fool of himself and daring to think that Kuroo might’ve liked him as something other than just a friend.

“Hey,” Bokuto snapped Kageyama out of his inward spiral. “You’re cool with all that, right?”

It was like a crescendo of strings in his head as he reeled it all back in and stood up straight, coming back to the conversation and determined to at least save a little face. “Yeah.” He forced a watery smile, feeling out of place. “Of course I am.”

“Good!” Bokuto grinned. “You’re young! Why not have a little fun, right?” Kageyama nodded and swallowed around the lump in his throat. “Relationships are a lot of work, too; this way you can get all the benefits without any of the problems.”

Kageyama felt more than heard movement in the hallway through the floorboards, and forced himself to speak, despite his jaw feeling locked and his tongue like lead. “Yeah... I. Have school and. Volleyball.” He cursed himself inwardly, aware of how halting and jarring his speech was, but Bokuto seemed to have taken no notice, turning to his soggy cereal to take a big spoonful.

“Yeah, exactly!” he said through a mouthful, trying and failing to not let any milk dribble out. He swallowed before he spoke again. “You’ve got other things to do. This can just be a way to blow off steam, like when we hang out or something.” Kageyama nodded stiffly, his grip on the counter tight, if only to ground him.

Bokuto nodded behind him. “Hey!”

Kageyama turned around just in time to see Kuroo approaching, pulling a short over his damp head and smiling at him. Feeling awkward, hurt, and embarrassed, Kageyama just looked away. Kuroo frowned. “What’s up?”

“Oh, don’t worry, man,” Bokuto began, waving his hand in the air. “I explained everything to Kageyama, and he’s good with it!”

“Explained what...” Kuroo cautioned.

“Oh y’know, no strings attached, friends with benefits, just sex.” Kuroo’s eyes widened jaw set the more Bokuto babbled, and Kageyama’s stomach sank a little more with each word, but he toughened up and faced Kuroo.

“Bo, wh-”

Kageyama cut Kuroo off. “Uh, yeah,” he said, trying his best to minimize his embarrassment and make it look like this was his idea all along, too. “Yeah, I mean. Relationships just... suck. It’s hard, I have a lot of stuff going on right now. School and volleyball and my dad and it’s just. Too much. So yeah, yeah this is good, this is great.”

Kuroo’s shoulders slumped. None of this had been his intention, but he wasn’t going to push Kageyama into anything he didn’t want, and he had a point; there was a lot going on in his life right now. Kuroo was disappointed and a little hurt, but he swallowed it down. He wanted to be there for Kageyama, even if it meant only as a friend.

“Anyway,” Kageyama said, “I gotta go. I’ve got... some stuff to do. I’ll talk to you guys later.”

“Alright...” Kuroo said, not bothering to see Kageyama to the door. “Bye.”

“See ya!” Bokuto called after him.

Once Kageyama had scooped up his sweater – a little embarrassed – put on his shoes, and left quietly, Kuroo turned on Bokuto and slapped his arm.

“Ow!” Bokuto yelled, leaning away from Kuroo and rubbing his sore arm. “What was that for?!”

“Why the hell did you tell him all that?”

“Tell him what!”

“All that bullshit about ‘friends with benefits’ and that it’s ‘just sex’.”

“You said you weren’t interested in him as anything other than a friend! Besides, this is what you always do, how was I supposed to know!”

“Bo...” Kuroo whined, making his way over to and flopping down on the couch dejectedly. “I actually like this one...” he mumbled into the cushions.

“Oh... sorry, I didn’t know,” Bokuto said, wilting a little in his stool. “I mean, last time we talked you said-”

“I _know_ ,” Kuroo wailed into the couch.

“Well,” Bokuto began quietly, “Kageyama doesn’t seem to... be into the idea of a relationship or anything, so...” Bokuto paused. He felt bad that he’d jumped the gun on telling Kageyama about what Kuroo normally did, what Bokuto _assumed_ he’d do again, and ended up indirectly hurting his best friend in the process. “I’m sorry, man.”

Kuroo heaved himself up, slouching deep into the couch and scrubbing his face with one hand, pulling the skin of his eye on the way down before letting his hand fall back to his lap. “It’s... fine.” It wasn’t really, but it would be. Kuroo was good at masking his feelings, and good at getting over things. It’s just this time that thing was Kageyama.

 

 

Kuroo took to the school library that afternoon, channeling his terrible mood into studying rather than moping around the house. It didn’t help that his mood had rubbed off on Bokuto, so the last thing he wanted to do was hang around the apartment with his dejected best friend. Besides, he had a paper due soon, he could do some extra readings outside of his textbooks and get an early start on everything now.

But Kuroo’s mind kept drifting back to Kageyama in between paragraphs of his text, blank space failing to distract him from last night, how Kageyama looked under the milky city lights, striped through the blinds, how Kageyama looked under _him_. Despite Kuroo bedding quite a few people in that very spot, absolutely no one looked more in place than Kageyama did.

Kuroo already missed his soft, sweet kisses, only regretting not taking the opportunity to kiss Kageyama more gently, slowly.

Kuroo groaned, letting his head fall forward into his book, reminiscent of how he normally sleeps, head wedged in his pillow. Not like he slept like that last night.

It was a little worrying how comfortable he’d been sleeping with an arm snug around Kageyama’s waist, gently rubbing circles in the small of his back. Knowing that Kageyama had fallen asleep so fast had eased Kuroo’s mind and he slept better actually knowing that for once, he could ensure that the boy got a deep, restful sleep.

He wanted to sleep like that more than just once – maybe even every night, but things weren’t looking up right about now.

Which is what Kuroo should’ve done when a paperback book whacked him upside the head. He jumped, rubbing the growing bump, but before he could even recover from the sudden surprise assault, Yaku was already in his face, whisper-yelling.

“You...” he hissed, trying to keep quiet for the other students but no less letting the anger seep in his voice.

“Oh god,” Kuroo groaned, leaning on the table with one hand and scrubbing his face, bracing himself for the inevitable lecture that was a long time coming.

“You son of a bitch, _what_ did I tell you?!”

“Don’t tr-”

“Don’t try _anything_ with Kageyama! And what the fuck did you do? You think I’m blind? I saw you two last night, and then I _heard_ from goddamn Hanamaki that you _left_ with him!” Yaku punctuated his sentence by smacking the table with the same book he hit Kuroo with, earning a few alarmed and annoyed looks. Kuroo shied away like a misbehaving dog that _knew_ what it did was wrong. Right now, though, the last thing he needed was a lecture, still a little raw from that disheartening conversation earlier this morning.

“On top of that, Matsukawa texted me this morning that you actually slept with him!”

“Wha-, how did he kn-”

“You know him, that guy knows everything, and don’t change the subject! It’s just like what I say goes through one ear and out the other!” Yaku exclaimed, exasperated and flopping down in the seat opposite him. “What the fuck were you thinking?”

“I-”

“I’ll tell you what you were thinking – _nothing._ You _weren’t_ thinking. God, Kuroo, you _know_ what you can be like! You remember the _last_ time you decided to hook up with someone from our group? Or the guy before that? Or the girl in your study group? Every fucking time – without fail – you get bored, break up, _hurt_ the person, and then we never see them again. You want that happening with Kageyama?”

“N-”

Yaku interrupted him again, barreling him over. “Why do you do it? God, Kuroo, he’s a _kid_ , too, he’s just a first year, and you know how awkward he is! The last thing he needs is to feel unwelcome or lose friends, especially _you_. Whether you care or not, you’re one of the closest people to him out of all of us, don’t take advantage of that!”

Kuroo was taken aback, and a little insulted. “I’d nev-”

“ _Don’t_ hurt this one, Kuroo. Just... don’t break his heart.”

“Well then you won’t have to worry about that,” Kuroo said, throwing his hands up but finally able to get a word in.

That certainly stopped Yaku in his rant, pulling back. “What do you mean?”

“I’m sure you’ll be happy to know Kageyama has zero interest in being anything other than friends.”

An awkward silence fell over them. Yaku looked between Kuroo’s sullen face and the heavy wooden table that separated. Now he felt bad, seeing that his friend seemed to be genuinely bummed out by this turn of events. Yaku was always one to jump to conclusions, but there were few he regretted as much as this one.

“Oh...” was all Yaku could say, anger replaced with a little shame. “I’m sorry.”

Kuroo shrugged. “It’s no big deal, whatever. Doesn’t matter to me, I’m fine being his friend.”

“Really...?” Yaku cautioned.

“Yeah,” Kuroo nodded, even managing to convince himself. “I mean, I liked him a little,” he toned down the truth – he liked Kageyama a _lot_ , “but it’s fine, really. I’d rather keep him as a friend, anyway.”

Yaku nodded, a little deflated now after his rant. “So...” he began slowly, awkwardly scratching the side of his head, “what are you going to do now?”

Kuroo shrugged again, sighing. “Nothing, probably. It’ll just go back to the way it was before, I guess. I’m not gonna make anything weird for him, I’ll just... try to keep him comfortable.”

Even if that meant having to endure the stomach churning discomfort he was sure to have seeing Kageyama after this. Despite the sick feeling of having been rejected, Kuroo wouldn’t trade Kageyama’s friendship for anything.

And if this was how to keep it, then so be it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks so much for all the great comments last update, they REALLY motivate me!!
> 
> follow me on twitter @bewarebzou where i often talk abt clubbin au or on tumblr @tobieaux


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is a super late update, life and depression and writers block happened! A few things to note, though. Unfortunately, i'll be going back to school next week and updates will be slower again until december at the earliest. I recommend you either subscribe to get updates as they come along, because the usual "check back on fridays" will probably no longer be in effect! Alternatively, befriend me and ill just link u the second i update lmao
> 
> The other thing to note and this one's very important, as it's been brought to my attention. I'm giving everyone a fair warning now that this fic will be containing copious amounts of drug use, both recreationally and unhealthily, from this point on in the story. Someone brought this up to me in a comment (if anyones interested its found for chapter 5 on page 2 of the comments, if u want to read the whole, long response, and if u have any concerns i urge u to do so!)
> 
> If this bothers anyone, I will be putting up warnings every chapter at the beginning from now on, and will be updating the tags on this fic regularly with updates. If anyone has any concerns, either about the drug use or anything else in this fic, please shoot me a message on tumblr, twitter, or even just leave a comment here. I don't want to make anyone uncomfortable and want people to enjoy reading this story!
> 
> Other than that, enjoy! There is no song suggestion for this chapter, but the youtube playlist will be linked at the bottom as usual, along with my twitter and tumblr.
> 
> Warning for mild drug use this chapter.

Kageyama was beginning to think he was developing an irrational fear of his phone. Not phones in general, just _his_ phone. Every time his phone would alert him to a new message, voice mail, or – god forbid – a call, dread would weigh heavily on his shoulders.

He’d need to psyche himself up before picking it up and checking who or what it was. He used to be relieved, even excited, to see a message from Kuroo, but now all it brought back were bittersweet memories of that night and a nauseous feeling of rejection.

When it wasn’t Kuroo, there was a strong possibility it was his father, whom he’d had yet to hear from since that night. He still had no idea what the consequences of that test may be, and he filled all his extra time with studying and practices at the gym alone.

The last possibility was that it was one of the other members of the group, and although Kageyama couldn’t quite separate them from the awkward feeling he’d have joining them, they were the least nerve-wracking to contact him.

He groaned, letting his head fall back over his desk chair while his phone blinked at him from a far away shelf. It’d been at least five minutes since that message came in, and every blip of the little alert light taunted him.

How could he have gotten this way, he wanted to still have a relationship with Kuroo and with the rest of the group, even if that meant it would only be friendship. He’d surprised everyone – including himself – when he managed to make friends at his new school and actually _keep_ them. Not only that, but Kuroo was the closest person to him he had around here. Hinata went to a different school too far away, Yachi was still back home in Miyagi, and Yamaguchi had decided to take a year off and travel overseas to visit family.

And while it made his chest feel funny to admit it, this group wasn’t just a replacement for his old one – they were really, truly his friends, a unique group that excited him to think he was a part of and it had made his confidence soar.

Maybe he was just overreacting. Bokuto said this was something they did pretty often, maybe he was just being too sensitive about the whole thing. He really did like Kuroo, enough that he would not say no to another “hook up” and, although it’d hurt, would play along with just wanting to be friends.

Because he did. He wanted to stay Kuroo’s friend and not feel anxious every time he’d message him, wanted to feel like he could join him and the others in their outings. He’d get over it eventually, he was sure. He just knew it’d take a little time, time he didn’t actually want to spend away from them.

He would just have to work a little harder to give the illusion he was normal, more so than usual. And that he could manage, at least for the privilege of keeping Kuroo as a friend.

He stalked over to his phone, anxiousness building in his chest, but grabbed it nonetheless. Whatever it was he just needed to get over this little bump in the road, push through it until he was comfortable again. He could guarantee that this would only take one, maybe two nights out with them, and he’d be back to normal and over Kuroo completely.

Look at the bright side of things, Kuroo still wanted to be his friend _and_ potentially maybe... sleep with him again? If anything, maybe he could just pretend for those moments that they weren’t _just_ friends, indulge himself in an unattainable fantasy.

God, that was a bad idea.

And yet, if the situation arose, he was going to fall back on that rickety net and see if he fell or not.

He checked the message with bated breath, for the first time in two days actually _hoping_ it was from Kuroo, or at least the others inviting him to something, but he deflated when he read _“Call me._ ”

Sent from his father.

It’d already been over five minutes since it was sent, which meant he was _already_ on thin ice, so Kageyama dialed him back without hesitation but with a pit in his stomach.

His father picked up on the first ring. “About time.”

“Sorry,” Kageyama said, deflating. “I was, uh. In the showe-“

“Never mind,” he said, curt and aggravated. Kageyama pursed his lips and tensed his shoulders; it seemed his father was in a particularly bad mood and he should brace himself for whatever this call entailed. “We need to discuss your behaviour.”

Kageyama frowned. “My behav-”

“Yes, your behaviour. What did your mother and I tell you?” There was a pause as Kageyama waited for what would clearly be the correct answer, as he had absolutely no idea why his _behaviour_ would be called into question, but it seemed his father wanted him to answer.

“Um, I... I-I’m not sure.”

There was a heavy, exasperated sigh on the other end, and when his father spoke again it was in a low, slow tone. “We told you _school comes first._ ”

“I know th-”

“Then why did you earn such a low mark on that test?” He was cut off again and held in a frustrated huff, channeling his nervous energy into pacing his room, keeping his arms tucked into his chest subconsciously in an awkward, half embrace when crossing them wasn’t an option.

“Dad, I _studied_.”

“Not hard enough,” his father exclaimed, clearly losing his patience, and Kageyama winced. He stopped in front of his mirror, nestled in his open closet between hanging clothes, with a deep-set frown. “The reason you are _there_ is _not_ for frivolous pursuits, whether it be friends or events or your _hobby_.” He practically spat the last word, unable to bring himself to even say the word volleyball, Kageyama was well aware.

That _hobby_ was the whole reason he was able to even _go_ here in the first place, and it was a career he was pursuing and had a chance of actually succeeding in, but he bit his tongue. Now was not the time to be talking back.

“You are not there to shirk your academic responsibilities, to waste time or money.”

“I have a tutor.” Kageyama managed to even his own surprise to keep the bite out of his voice.

“Are you paying this ‘ _tutor_ ’? Because in that case, demand your money back. You don’t need a tutor, and this one is clearly not helping you.” Kageyama tuned his father out, thoroughly done with the conversation at this point. It’s not like he’d notice, ranting on and on about _responsibility_ and how much _harder_ Kageyama should study, sans tutor.

Kageyama stared at his reflection, complete with under-eye bags and a glassy look. He was looking a little grey, too, probably because he hadn’t slept at all last night, tossing and turning before deciding to take a little walk and hit up the corner store for some caffeine and junk food. The remnants were still strewn about his floor, mixed with a fine layer of take-out boxes from last night’s meal, forgoing the cafeteria due to food he just could not stomach and avoiding certain people.

With how long he’d been awake, you’d think he would’ve been able to actually accomplish something, but he couldn’t focus much on school work and his mind kept drifting any time he’d watch some volleyball videos – something he could safely say he was unfamiliar with.

He rubbed his cheek with one hand, keeping the phone a little way’s away from his ear with the other, and turned his head side to side, examining. He was looking a little paler than usual, but it’s nothing a little sleep couldn’t fix. He also looked like he needed a hot shower, still having not taken one since that night he spent at Kuroo’s.

A little gross, now that he thought about it.

In fact, he was wearing the same sweats from yesterday, too, and they began to smell. He should do some laundry soon.

He craned his neck and tilted his chin up a bit, smoothing over the expanse of his neck and fingering the lingering bruises blossoming his skin, left there by Kuroo. They didn’t hurt, not physically, but they left an ache in his chest as he skimmed over each one, reliving how it felt to receive each one.

His face reddened, blood suffusing in his cheeks and bringing colour back to his face.

That was one way to look less dead.

“Do you understand?” He tuned back into his father, still lecturing with thinly veiled anger. “If you get even _one_ bad mark at the end of this semester, I’m pulling you out and you’re coming home.”

Kageyama felt nausea boil his stomach and he swallowed hard, breath held tight in his chest. “Understood.”

There was just no more room for error.

 

 

 

Serve after serve after serve was sent flying over the net, clapping the floor on the other side with a thunderous crack that rang through the gym, and yet Kageyama kept turning for more.

He’d been practicing setting with the members and a few regulars earlier, but it wasn’t enough to ease his nerves so he relegated himself to some solitary serve practice to try and disperse the whirlwind of his thoughts.

It didn’t work.

His father all but guaranteed that he’d drag his ass back to the boonies by the end of the semester, whether he liked it or not. His scholarship would most likely be lost to the wind if he didn’t make it to first string by the end of the semester – how long would he be allowed a free ride for doing absolutely nothing for the team? And his time with the group was running shorter by the day, if his deteriorating relationship with Kuroo was anything to go by.

He felt like everything he wanted and worked so _hard_ for was slipping through his fingers and he could do nothing about it, but he had to. He had to try, work _harder_ , or everything would be for nothing.

Kageyama was starting to feel suffocated; he knew his father was deliberately giving him a hard time so he’d have to come home. Since the day he brought home his acceptance letter – with a _full_ scholarship, too – his father had been unimpressed.

Kageyama had about two minutes after opening the letter of elation, pure pride and excitement. He doubted he’d get into _any_ school up until that point, and here he got into one of his top choices on a full goddamn scholarship for the sport he loved so dearly.

He called Hinata, eager to share the news, to which he earned the same – if not more – level of enthusiasm.

“Holy shit,” Hinata hollered on the other end. “Are you sure you read that right?”

“I’m reading it right now!” He didn’t disclose that he had to read it three times just to properly process the news.

“Shit, that’s great! Man, you’re gonna have such a good time, that’s one of the _top_ teams.”

Kageyama’s smile began to fade, inch by inch. “Yeah, it really is.”

“You’re going to work with some amazing players!”

“Yeah.” The doubt settled in.

“And like, my school’s not _terrible_ , but like, isn’t yours top in the country for academics or something?”

“Uh...” Kageyama cleared his throat, and when he spoke again, it was much quieter. “Yeah, I think so.”

Hinata whistled low, and Kageyama sat down on his bed. “Man, you’re so lucky. A full scholarship... damn, Kageyama, how’d you manage that?”

Kageyama shrugged, but after no response, realized Hinata couldn’t see him. “I dunno. Worked hard?”

“Not in school, that’s for sure,” Hinata joked, but it did nothing for Kageyama’s worsening mood. “What’s up? You don’t sound so excited about it.”

Kageyama didn’t want to say. He should _feel_ so excited he wanted to jump out of his skin but instead just slumped a little. He knew he’d worked hard – at both volleyball _and_ school – to get into this school, but it was starting to feel like he hadn’t actually... earned it. Like he was cheating the system, or that he wouldn’t be able to handle it, or that he didn’t actually deserve it.

Years of striving for perfection in one field had given him a sort of paradoxal complex where he knew he’d _never_ be good enough, and it was beginning to take effect even here, holding evidence in his hand that his hard work and talent was enough to not only be noticed, but worth something.

Kageyama heard the front door creak open and close with a dull thud; his father was home. He shot off a quick goodbye and poked his head out his bedroom, listening to the heavy footsteps and sighs on the first floor. With his acceptance letter clutched in his hand, Kageyama trudged out of his room and halfway down the stairs.

“Dad?” No response, so he mustered up a little bit of courage and cleared his throat, speaking louder this time. “Dad?”

“Hmm?” His father turned around, sounding gruff and worn. His face showed it, too, which only unsettled Kageyama more. Even in a good mood, his father’s reaction couldn’t be guaranteed to be supportive.

He held up the acceptance letter. “I, uh... I got in.”

His father just sighed, tired. “What?”

Kageyama made his way down the rest of the stairs and gave him the letter for him to read himself. As his fatigued eyes scanned the page, Kageyama watched with a mixture of nervousness and hope. Hope his father would actually be excited for him, or proud, or even in the least bit _happy._ “See? Full scholarship and everything.”

His father nodded, pursing his lips. “You do know how hard it is to keep a scholarship, right?”

“Well... I mean- yeah. But I got one still.”

“What happens if you can’t maintain it?” his father asked, tossing the letter on to the kitchen table and dumping his bag on a chair. “You know we can’t afford to keep you in a school like that.”

“I’ll work hard.”

His father breathed out a little skeptical, amused huff. “Are you sure you can handle it? Maintain the grades you need to stay, balance volleyball and your studies, _and_ be a benefit to the team?”

The more his father spoke, the more doubt settled in, but Kageyama had _wanted_ this. Wanted this _so bad_ and worked _so hard_ , he’d do anything to go and succeed and prove that none of this had been a waste.

Kageyama nodded, determined. “I can handle it.”

But after that first horrendous test grade, he was starting to doubt himself again. After _still_ not being treated as a vital player, after working harder than he ever had before, he was _still_ falling short and his father’s threat was beginning to become a very real and very scary possibility.

He didn’t want him to be right.

But he also felt like he was lost at sea without a paddle. Without a boat. Without a goddamn lifejacket.

As much as he wanted to keep working on his serves, at least for his own sanity, everyone was packing up and it was time he did, too. Coach wouldn’t be happy if he saw Kageyama pushing himself, no matter how much he wanted to.

Kageyama collapsed on a bench, the wood dipping under his weight slightly, and took a swig from his water bottle. He didn’t feel tired in the least bit, adrenaline still running through his veins, despite how sweaty he actually was. His shirt was damp and clung to him and, although it was proof of his effort, the feeling made his skin crawl. He could really use a shower.

“Hey!” Bokuto walked over, tossing him a hand towel to dry himself with. When he wasn’t looking, it seemed Kuroo had dropped by to talk to Bokuto, and had followed him over. He gave Kageyama a small smile, and his cheeks pinked, looking away to dab his face with the towel. He guessed he still wasn’t completely over the awkward air that hung between them.

Kageyama nodded to them both in greeting, occupying himself with another sip from his water bottle, using it to hide his face a bit. Bokuto, ever oblivious to atmosphere, broke the silence. “What’re you doing tonight?”

“Nothing,” Kageyama shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant but unable to look at Kuroo for more than a fraction of a second. It was a good thing Bokuto was the one talking. “Why?”

“We’re gonna hang out at Matsukawa’s.” Bokuto turned to Kuroo to urge him on. He knew that what had happened between the two of them had left Kuroo a little down, and since it had been partially his fault – he _had_ mentioned the whole “friends with benefits” thing, even if that’s what Kageyama had wanted – he wanted to at least somewhat fix it. Kuroo, for whatever reason, had actually agreed to go along with it all. “Did you wanna come?”

At the risk of creating an even more awkward situation, Kageyama looked at Kuroo, who offered him a hopeful little smile, and Kageyama’s stomach did a little somersault. Even if Kuroo just wanted to be friends, he still _wanted to be friends_. And that was enough for him.

“Yeah. Yeah I’ll be there.”

 

 

 

It was safe to say things’d been a little awkward between Kuroo and Kageyama, just as Kuroo had feared, but things that night had actually been relatively... comfortable. Kageyama had shown up and greeted everyone, and even plopped himself down next to Kuroo on the couch. They hadn’t had a full conversation, but they exchanged words like Kuroo hadn’t had his dick in the other’s ass just a few nights ago.

It was a breath of relief for Kuroo. Kageyama had seemed to shake off any of the awkwardness that had temporarily developed between them and gone back to his old self. Kageyama snorted when Kuroo said something funny, nudged him when he wanted to point out Yaku digging into a chip bag extra carefully, like he was working under delicate circumstances in a government lab and not high as hell and craving some chips. He even accepted a few beers from Kuroo as he was making trips to the kitchen. Things were mellowing out, getting more comfortable, the uneasiness melting out of Kuroo’s stomach to be replaced by the usual warmth he had around Kageyama.

Things were going back to normal.

Well. Almost.

After a few more bottles and a shot (at Bokuto’s insistence, and it was either take the shot or deal with a disappointed and dejected Bokuto for the rest of the night), there were looks out of the corner of Kageyama’s eye that had not gone unnoticed by Kuroo. But after a few nights ago, Kuroo was not going to start anything, nor pursue it. Hell, he wasn’t even going to read into it any further, for fear of ruining their healing relationship.

It’s not like he didn’t want to. _God_ , did he want to. The only thing he’d been able to think about the last few days was how Kageyama had _looked_ and _sounded_ and _felt_ and how badly he wanted to just do it all again. Every brush with Kageyama’s shoulder on the couch lit that little fire of desire to reach out and pull him close again, hold him tight and bury his face in the other’s neck, or just pull his face close and kiss him fiercly.

Of course, it flip-flopped between that and the reality that Kageyama wanted _only_ that, and none of the sappy, romantic shit that Kuroo _did_ want. He’d done the whole friends-with-benefits spiel, and, while fun, he did want something different now. And especially with Kageyama. The memory of waking up with his arms wrapped around the other’s lithe body on a quiet morning was... bittersweet, to say the least. He wanted to do that more, maybe even every morning, but at this rate, it looked like it wasn’t going to happen.

And although Yaku was convinced he was right about Kuroo’s three month relationship lifespan, Kuroo was also sure that that wouldn’t have been the case with Kageyama. He genuinely cared for the boy, wanted to see him safe and happy and succeed. He wanted to be the one to help him with all that and so much more, and he wasn’t even going to get the chance to. He was just going to have to do it from here, as his friend and nothing else.

He shouldn’t be complaining, though. He should look at the bright side. Pros? Sex with someone as cute as Kageyama; minimal complications that tend to come with relationships, especially of this nature; Kageyama was onboard with it; and they could still maintain their friendship.

Cons? The way Kuroo’s heart fluttered when he looked at Kageyama, now laughing at some stupid story Bokuto was telling, and the unceremonious fwump his heart made like a sad sack full of marbles.

Heartache like this was few and far between for Kuroo, even with what a sappy, romantic person he could be. It was disappointing, but his friendship with Kageyama was... sort of special. And he didn’t want to jeopardize it. He’ll take what he can get, and if just sleeping together is what it takes to be able to kiss and hold and be _close_ to Kageyama, then he’d do it. Besides, he had needs, too.

Other than Kuroo’s internal dilemma, the night was going pretty light-heartedly. Everyone seemed to be relaxed, and he couldn’t chock that up to just the blunt slowly being passed around their haphazard circle.

Kageyama had certainly relaxed, allowing himself to go a little loose on the couch, legs spread and head leaning back against the couch uncomfortably, turned so he could still watch the others. Kuroo, of course, was still leagues better at handling his weed than Kageyama was, but it didn’t seem the kid was too far gone, just comfortable.

Yaku was still digging his grubby paws into what was almost certainly an empty chip bag at this point, Akaashi and Hanamaki were talking quietly about avant-garde art film that Kuroo didn’t even want to _attempt_ to pronounce, and Matsukawa was listening diligently to Bokuto talking to anyone that would listen while rolling another joint.

In the middle of Hanamaki nodding along to Akaashi explaining the meaning of a lemon and its lighting in the art film, Matsukawa tapped him on the shoulder and got him to turn half around. Lungs already filled with the thick, skunky smoke, Matsukawa blew a steady stream of it into Hanamaki’s waiting, open mouth.

Kageyama cocked his head in thinly veiled confusion. “What was that?”

Hanamaki turned back with a devilish glint in his eye, to which Kuroo gave back a warning look. “Oh, that?” he asked, knowing full fucking well what Kageyama meant and voice dripping with misplaced mischief. Kageyama nodded. “Shotgunning.”

Kageyama quirked his mouth to one side and scrunched up his nose. “Why...”

“Because it’s fun.” Kuroo noticed the flick in Hanamaki’s gaze to him, and he frowned. Hanamaki was stirring up trouble, probably as a means to fix his and Kageyama’s delicate relationship. It wasn’t needed.

Unfortunately, Kageyama didn’t know the evil little way Hanamaki’s mind worked and took the bait. “Fun...” If it wasn’t so irritating that Hanamaki was succeeding in his scheme, the way Kageyama’s frown, set deep into his brows and bottom lip pushed out, would’ve been completely disarming, instead of only slightly, if the way Kuroo’s heart swelling was anything to go by. He shouldn’t get his hopes up. Leave it be.

He silently cursed Hanamaki for putting the idea in both their heads now as Kuroo’s mind wandered to what it’d be like to do it with Kageyama. A true test of his self control.

“Why don’t you guys ever do that with me?” Bokuto mumbled, burying his face in his crossed arms on the carpet.

“’Cause you’re all the way over there,” Matsukawa replied without looking up, having returned to expertly rolling his joint.

“That’s no excuse.”

They continued to argue back and forth about how much effort it was to reach over and how worth it it was (“How dare you, I am worth it!”), Kuroo relaxed further into the couch, arm draped across the back, as Kageyama seemingly forgot the whole thing in favor of listening to them bicker.

Kuroo must admit that it was a good distraction, snatching the chip – now crumb – bag from Yaku so that he and Kageyama could have a snack while enjoying the show. Kageyama finished his near-full bottle of beer watching Bokuto grab Matsukawa’s shocked face between both his hands and struggled to plant a sloppy kiss on his squished mouth while Hanamaki sat idly by and watched his unflappable boyfriend thoroughly flapped.

Bokuto, not satisfied with kissing just one person, moved on to Hanamaki mid-laugh, a distracted and irate Akaashi, and then Yaku in quick succession. Yaku, however, was quick on his feet and scrambled away from Bokuto’s grasp before he could lay one on him, too, but Bokuto wasn’t going to go down without a chase.

Kageyama mumbled quietly, almost lost under Bokuto’s persuading and everyone’s shrieking and shouting, but there was no mistaking what he said.

“I wanna try it.”

Kuroo’s breath caught in his throat. “Try what...?” he cautioned, part of him hoping to god the other didn’t mean shotgunning, but the other part willing Kageyama silently to ask.

Kageyama looked at him as if it was obvious, eyes big like he just asked Kuroo to pass him a pillow. “Shotgunning...?” Kageyama, lips loosened by alcohol, let them curl on one side and flash a wry little smile, unnervingly confident. Kuroo swallowed hard.

Kageyama was doing this on purpose.

“Is that okay?” Kageyama asked him again.

Yaku was far too busy fending off Bokuto in the corner of Matsukawa’s tiny kitchen to be the voice of reason and bully Kuroo into refusing, but the little voice in Kuroo’s head sounded an awful lot like him.

It was probably not the best idea, Conscience Yaku reminded him. Their relationship and Kuroo’s feelings were still a little raw, and it may be too soon to be reopening things.

However, Conscience Yaku was no real Yaku, and could be easily ignored when Kageyama’s eyes flicked down to Kuroo’s mouth briefly, biting his own bottom lip. Kageyama could easily pull him in and far away from the nagging little Conscience Yaku, growing fainter as Kuroo zoned in on the look in Kageyama’s dark eyes.

The voice was thoroughly gone by the time Kuroo snapped his fingers at Matsukawa to pass him the now lit joint. Kageyama looked rather pleased with himself when Kuroo perched the blunt between his lips and sucked in a lungful of smoke, inching closer with barely contained eagerness as he watched Kuroo’s chest rise steadily.

Kuroo placed one hand tentatively on the other’s hip, fingers itching to grab and pull but not yet, and definitely not with his nosey friends around. Instead, he just trailed his hand up Kageyama’s side, catching and dragging his shirt up a bit to reveal a sweet sliver of his skin, until he reached the back of his neck and pulled him forward gently.

Confidence and alcohol surging through Kageyama blocked out his usual nerves and allowed him to briefly lick his lip and let his mouth fall open. If Kuroo wasn’t already holding his breath, he would’ve sucked in another at the way Kageyama’s tongue peeked out and just barely touched his bottom lip. Kuroo’s throat burned from the smoke but his belly burned from wanting to sink his teeth that plump lip.

He breathed out again, the smoke drifting between them and back into Kageyama’s mouth as he inhaled, wisps escaping the electric storm brewing between them. It mixed with the heat in his gut that grew when Kageyama’s dark lashes dropped and his hand gripped tight to Kuroo’s side.

The spark was too strong and Kuroo felt dizzy with want, rushing through Kuroo’s body and out his fingertips as he charged forward, head first into the storm and captured Kageyama’s lips with his in a bruising kiss, finally able to pass the electric heat he felt.

Kageyama pressed back briefly, his desire made apparent, before he huffed into Kuroo’s mouth and had to pull back, doubling over in a coughing fit of watering eyes and hiccupping smoke. Kuroo let him fall forward on to his shoulder, wheezing from the burn, and he rubbed Kageyama’s back in small, soothing circles, if only to ease his own energy.

Kuroo wouldn’t allow Conscience Yaku to return, beating him off with a stick in the back of mind as he insisted this was a bad idea, he was opening up a whole new can of crap, but oh god, when Kageyama pulled back up, mouth a little wet with spittle – from the kiss? From the coughing? – and looked at Kuroo with those dark, intense eyes, Kuroo couldn’t help but ignore the voice.

Kageyama pulled Kuroo forward by his shirt to press another eager kiss, but before Kuroo could gain his bearings again, he was heaved to his feet and dragged by the shirt and up the stairs, creaking under the weight. Kuroo just barely had to catch Kageyama as he tripped near the top and stumbled forward, waving him off so he could shove Kuroo into the washroom and kicking the door closed behind him and he was back on him again.

Kuroo was a little taken aback by Kageyama’s forwardness, but he wasn’t about to let that stop him from being pulled by the hips until he was flush against the other for another hungry kiss, a little sloppy and tasted like alcohol.

Kuroo backed Kageyama up in the cramped space until the other’s ass was pressed into the sink, slipping his hands up under Kageyama’s shirt to just ever so slightly graze his bare waist. Kageyama made a pleased little hum deep in his throat, bringing his hands up to tangle them in the mess of Kuroo’s hair.

Kageyama was a little... too loose, though. A little sloppy with his kissing, a little clumsy with his hands, and a little too eager to start making out in the bathroom of his friend’s house.

Kuroo pulled away from the kiss, watching the dizzy, far-off look in Kageyama’s clouded eyes. “Hey,” he said softly, barely above a whisper, “you okay?” He really wanted to ask if _this_ – what they were doing – was okay, but maybe he was a little worried about the answer.

Kageyama nodded earnestly, kissing the corner of Kuroo’s mouth and along his jaw. This wasn’t helping him straighten out his thoughts, keeping his grip on reality and Kageyama’s waist tight as he noticed Kageyama leaning heavily on him rather than the sink. Or his own two feet. “You sure?”

“ _Yes_ , Kuroo, shut up,” Kageyama said, barely allowing himself enough time to respond before he was pushing against Kuroo till his back slammed into the wall behind him, licking back into his mouth. The boy seemed steadier on his feet now, so Kuroo allowed his hands to slip around Kageyama’s waist and down to cup his ass through his jeans.

In moments like this, Kuroo could forget any heartache he felt before about Kageyama, because now he was free to touch and kiss and move against the other when Kageyama ground his hips hard into his. Kuroo pulled away to swear under his breath against Kageyama’s skin as he trailed kisses along his jaw and down his neck until he heard the telltale hiss of leather and clink of a belt buckle. _His_ belt buckle.

“Hey, woah.” Maybe things were moving a little too fast, Kuroo thought belatedly. The rational part of his brain told him (in Yaku’s voice) that this was a fantastic way to open up fresh wounds again and that maybe Kageyama was being influenced by the few beers he’d had, but the emotional part was yelling at him to keep it going and maybe raid Matsukawa’s medicine cabinet for... necessities.

He listened to the rational part.

“Hey, wait, slow down a little there, kid,” he laughed breathlessly.

Kageyama groaned in annoyance. “C’mon.” He punctuated a peck on Kuroo’s lips with a lush roll of his hips. Kuroo took in a sharp breath.

Kuroo’s train of thought was a little lost when his blood rushed away from his head and went south. Kageyama brushed his lips against Kuroo’s with a cheeky smile, his confidence alarming and a little arousing.

Kuroo was pulled away from the wall by the belt and dragged the few side-steps it took to reach the toilet. Kageyama plopped himself down on the seat lid, pushing and pulling Kuroo’s hips into place in front of him.

“God,” Kageyama breathed, already done with Kuroo’s belt and letting it hang there, open. “I wanted to do this _so bad_ last time.” Kuroo wasn’t given a chance to respond or even blush before Kageyama was already on him, mouthing at the bulge in the front of his pants that was more than just his zipper. Kuroo groaned and ran a hand through Kageyama’s light, silky hair when the boy licked a broad stripe up to the button of his pants and moaned. He pulled away again to shoot Kuroo a lazy grin, swaying a bit on his seat.

“Okay,” Kuroo said, silently asking his dick for forgiveness, “I think we should stop.” Kageyama was very clearly drunk and too far gone to properly consent to this, so it was time to cease and desist, no matter how his dick protested.

“No no,” Kageyama slurred, burying his face in the front of Kuroo’s pants and placing a chaste kiss at the zipper. “’m good.”

“I don’t think so.” Kuroo pushed at him lightly, away from the growing problem area.

“Really,” Kageyama began, matter-of-factly, then held up one finger. “Hold on.” Kageyama leaned over the side of the tub with both hands and wretched, throwing up in the shower before pulling back up and wiping his mouth. “Okay, now I’m good.”

“Okay,” Kuroo sighed. “That’s it. Let’s get you home.”

Kageyama whined low, but didn’t protest when Kuroo helped him to his feet again and scrubbed at his face with a wet towel like a doting mother. He continued to help Kageyama down the stairs and back to the living room where everyone still was.

Yaku’s eyes went wide when he saw Kuroo’s undone belt, thunder crossing his face.

Yaku opened his mouth to scold him, but Kuroo quickly cut him off. “Nothing happened. I’m taking him home.”

“Good,” Matsukawa said. “Don’t have sex in my bathroom.”

Hanamaki chimed in. “Yeah, that’s our spot.”

Yaku made a disgusted noise, heaving himself to his feet. “I’m going with you,” he told Kuroo, grabbing his jacket off the back of the couch.

“You don’t have to,” Kuroo said, slipping on his shoes and helping Kageyama into his.

“And leave you two alone?” Yaku scoffed. “Besides, I don’t feel like crashing here tonight.” Matsukawa made a sarcastic hurt noise somewhere from behind him.

Yaku called a cab and Kuroo took Kageyama outside to sit on the porch to get some fresh air, but the boy looked tired and soon leaned his head on Kuroo’s shoulder. Kuroo smiled gently to himself, wrapping an arm around the other to make things more comfortable as Kageyama slowly began to doze off, if his steadying, deep breaths were anything to go by.

Things didn’t turn out the way Kuroo expected tonight. Kageyama was more than comfortable with him again, finally getting over that hump of awkwardness only to end up nearly hooking up in the bathroom.

Of course, it could’ve just been the alcohol loosening his anxiety, but Kuroo hoped it was more than just that. He didn’t think what happened tonight could change their relationship as it was, but worry still ate away at his stomach.

With Kageyama sleeping on his shoulder on the porch, Kuroo felt his heart swell. It may not be his ideal situation, but he still got to be around Kageyama, got to make him laugh and hold him close and kiss him, and for now, that was enough. It had to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Twitter: @bewarebzou  
> Tumblr: tobieaux  
> Youtube playlist (updated occasionally): https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLJlnr2QnTDg-EcYbRw7gildh6dBwdo9xr
> 
> Also, I wrote a kurokage oneshot this month (to help with writers block) called Cutie in the Booth. Check it out if you want more cute kurokage!
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are SUPER appreciated, they seriously motivate me and make my day


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am  
> so sorry  
> this took me so long
> 
> long story short FILM SCHOOL IS KICKING MY ASS like i love it but it has me so incredibly busy i severely underestimated the amount of work thatd go in
> 
> but here have this extra long chapter i've been working on since august hopefully i can update soon enough but prob not before may (cause i'm working on my first film till then)
> 
> i hope everyones still around/wants to read /;u; /
> 
> recommended songs for this chapter:  
> electricity (rush) - FMLYBND (sorry i cant find the right version anywhere but on their spotify)  
> ocean eyes (astronomyy edit) - billie ellish
> 
> WARNING: mild drug use - MDMA

Kuroo stumbled through the dark, quiet halls of Kageyama’s dorm just after 2 in the morning, trying his absolute best to not wake anyone. Of course, this would be easier without the dead weight that was Kageyama leaning against his side and sending him teetering into walls and doors. Kageyama completely fell asleep in the cab here and, as much as Kuroo hated to wake him, he had to just to get him to his room.

The thing was, though... Kageyama _didn’t wake up_. Not completely at least. He had mumbled something unintelligible and had to be dragged out of the backseat, one arm heaved over Kuroo’s shoulder. Yaku had to stay back to keep their cab running, which meant every extra second Kuroo took meant their meter was going up, and he just _knew_ Yaku was not going to be the one footing that bill.

Kageyama was barely holding himself up on his feet, complaining under his breath about being woken up. It made Kuroo feel a little bad, he knew sleep was not easy to come by for the boy.

His shoulder slammed hard into the wall again, Kageyama leaning all his weight on Kuroo. Okay, maybe he didn’t feel _that_ bad.

He thanked his past self for having the mind to dig through Kageyama’s pockets for his keycard to the building and his room, but finding the door in the dark was easier said than done.

By the time he finally found, unlocked, and shouldered his way in, Kuroo was out of breath, flopping Kageyama down on his bed in his small room. Kageyama groaned and tried turning over on his stomach, but instead nearly toppled right out of his bed.

“Woah, woah, woah.” Kuroo caught him before his face met the growing pile of takeout containers next to his bed and heaved him back into his bed, shuffling the boy closer to the wall so that wouldn’t happen again and trying and failing to keep his heard from tugging when Kageyama, without missing a beat, grabbed a pillow and curled around it.

Kuroo moved to the foot of the bed, sitting down gingerly to not stir the other as he began to settle in for the night, and began to untie and pull of Kageyama’s shoes, tucking them in the corner where the wall meets the bed. He debated momentarily whether he should remove Kageyama’s jeans, too, but ultimately came to the conclusion jeans are pretty uncomfortable to sleep in.

Carefully, he manoeuvred Kageyama away from the pillow just enough to be able to undo his pants and forcefully will his mind to stay in the here and now and not remember the _last_ time he was doing this. Right now, he was just a friend helping a sort of drunk, very tired friend get ready for a well deserved rest. That’s _it_.

Still, he held his breath and there _may_ have been a slight tremor to his hands as he undid the button and zipped down the fly, lifting Kageyama’s legs to yank them off. Kageyama barely reacted, just grumbled and tried to curl back into his pillow, which was honestly a relief for Kuroo, turning around to fold the jeans over the desk chair.

“Kuroo?” He whipped back around to see a very awake Kageyama, sitting up in the dark of his room.

Kuroo really wished now that he hadn’t taken off Kageyama’s pants and left him in just a t-shirt and tight black boxers, or hadn’t left the light off to let the moonlight stream through the open blinds to drape over the boy, or that he’d actually come up here. Alone. _At all_.

He should’ve made Yaku and all 162 centimeters of him carry Kageyama’s dead weight up here and deal with this.

“Yeah?” he replied, quiet, around a lump in his throat.

“Will you stay?” Kuroo’s heart sank. The last time he and Kageyama quote on quote “slept together”, he could make sure the boy got a restful sleep, but that was only half the reason Kageyama actually wanted him to stay, and it’s not exactly like he was... hiding it. Not with the way his eyes kept flicking down, chewing on his bottom lip and shifting on his bedspread.

And this was definitely not something Kuroo was going to engage in, no matter how bad either of them wanted to. Not now, not like this, not so soon.

He walked over, and Kageyama’s eyes, though glassy, lit up for a second, sitting up a little straighter like he was expecting something. Instead, Kuroo gave him a wry smile and reached for the crumpled blanket kicked to the corner of the bed and pulled it up over the other.

“Sorry,” he whispered. “No can do.”

Kageyama looked a little disappointed, casting his eyes down briefly, but before he could settle back into his bed or Kuroo could even think, he snaked a hand behind Kuroo’s head and brought him down low enough to capture his lips in a chaste kiss. Kuroo’s brain ground to a halt and melted long enough for him to indulge in it until Kageyama pulled back again and nodded solemnly, scooting down under his covers to curl into his pillow.

Kuroo’s mind only caught up with him after the fact, and his heart ached, but despite all of this he turned back around and left with a quiet good night. Back out in the dark hall of a sleeping dormitory, he leaned back against the wall and scrubbed at his face, letting his head fall back with a dull thud.

This was harder than he thought it’d be.

 

 

Kageyama woke up in a daze. The room was painted a dull, pale blue, the sun not even yet kissing the horizon, and he turned on his side to see the time. The clock blinked back an angry 5:43 a.m. to the rhythm of his pounding head. He turned back over with a groan, snuggling further into his own comforter and trying to will himself back to sleep when the thought hit him.

How’d he even get back here?

He tried to wade through the foggy memories of his night, piecing together what he could remember. He’d gone to Matsukawa’s and drank, if his pounding headache settled behind his eyes was anything to go by. Bokuto tried attacking everyone with kisses, which he was thankfully spared from. He and Kuroo actually talked – though what about was beyond him.

The more he recalled, the more embarrassed he became. He _knows_ he was drunk enough to come onto Kuroo in his own stupid come-hither way, and for some god forsaken reason, he succeeded. Maybe Kuroo was drunk, too. They smoked a little, they made out a lot, and he threw up. Right in front of Kuroo. Right _next_ to Kuroo. After trying to _go down on him_. Oh god, he hoped that Kuroo didn’t think it was because of him. In fact, the idea that Kuroo might think he was disgusted with the prospect of finally getting his dick in his mouth was far more nauseating, drunk or not.

He groaned, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes, deep enough to see stars behind his eyelids and still floating around his ceiling when he opened them again.

After that, though, he doesn’t remember much. He remembers dozing off on Kuroo’s shoulder outside, being dumped in the back of a cab and then, seemingly instantly, in his bed, before sleep took him over again, however briefly.

In a sudden rush, he felt lonely. Maybe it was the time, as the shadows slowly crept across his ceiling as the sun lit the sky but didn’t touch his window. Maybe it was the fact that his bed was cold on one side and only warm in the small space he occupied, wrapped up in his blanket. Maybe it’s that he felt something more, something else just on the edges of his consciousness, happened with Kuroo back here in this room, and that he just couldn’t remember. He was too far gone and drowsy from having to be woken up again from his drunken sleep and trudged back up here. He must’ve not even been in his right _mind_.

He curled in on his pillow, pulling it under his blanket and scrunching himself up so it fit tight in his arms and cushioned his knees, pulled up to his chest. He felt small. He felt tired. He felt alone.

He shouldn’t feel this way after a night out with friends.

Sometime between getting lost in his empty thoughts, Kageyama drifted back to sleep, still clutching his pillow, and drifted back when his phone woke him, buzzing noisily on his wooden nightstand.

When he finally figured out when and where he was, he flopped one sleep-heavy arm on the nightstand and dragged it over to him with a groan, heaving himself up onto all fours when he saw it was a call from Kuroo.

“Hello?” he asked, voice still groggy with sleep.

“Hey!” Kuroo said on the other line, tinny and far too cheery. “Uh, sorry... did I wake you?” Kageyama grunted an affirmative. Kuroo felt a little bad, but in all honesty he thought the other would be awake by now – it was long past 1pm. Unfortunately, he was wrong. “Did you wanna pass on studying today?”

Kageyama scratched his chest under his shirt, just barely catching up with the conversation. He wasn’t much of a morning person, even when it was the afternoon. “...Huh?”

“Studying. We were supposed to get you ready for that test next Friday, right?”

“Oh...” Kageyama remembered vaguely making these plans last week when he expressed his concern of the upcoming test to Kuroo. As much as his persistent headache protested, he needed to study. “Right, yeah. When are we meeting again?”

“Three, at my place. I can pick you up on my way home from work if you want?”

Kageyama looked with bleary eyes at his clock, trying to gauge the time, before scanning over his disheveled room – clothes scattered over furniture and on the floor between empty takeout containers and the odd textbook. He should probably clean today. Kuroo definitely shouldn’t see this mess, though Kageyama had the suspicion he saw it last night when he dumped him here.

“No, it’s fine,” Kageyama sighed, shoving the covers off and exposing himself to the cold of the room, fighting off the initial shiver. “I’ll meet you there.”

After a quick goodbye, as Kuroo had to get off break, Kageyama started tidying up to the best of his abilities, but he only managed to throw the textbooks on his desk and the containers in the trash before his headache insisted he stop immediately. He looked for clothes to change into through the piles on the floor, sniffing to check their cleanliness.

Once dressed, he headed to the school cafeteria in hopes he’d find some breakfast, but ended up just leaving disgusted with a carton of milk. It’d have to do.

By the time he walked over to Kuroo’s it was a little before 3 o’clock. He knocked on the door, but instead of Kuroo greeting him, it was a shirtless Bokuto.

“Hey! Here for Kuroo?”

He was still too hungover to deal with his boisterous friend, wincing from his sheer volume. “Uh, yeah. Tutoring.”

“Right, right right right.” Bokuto nodded, then stepped aside. “Well, come in! He’s not here yet, probably just got off work.”

Kageyama stepped inside, toeing off his shoes and dragging himself to the couch. The coffee table was littered with textbooks with far too many numbers, graph paper with equations that made him feel sick, and various tools of torture with the odd pencil.

Bokuto slid back into his seat on the floor across from Kageyama and shuffled around his disarray of homework. Bokuto never struck Kageyama as an academic, but as he’s heard many, many a time, he was exceptional with numbers. It was pretty amazing to Kageyama, considering his scores in any course that involved numbers, and he may not _understand_ engineering or physics or anything of the sort, but he _did_ know it was supposed to be incredibly hard.

How he managed to not just stay on top of his homework, but _excel_ , was beyond him, and maybe it was the hangover or maybe curiosity just got the best of him, but he asked. “How do you do it?”

“Hm?” Bokuto looked up from whatever he was scribbling down. “Oh, uh... I don’t know if I’m great at _explaining_ thermodynamics, but I can try. So-”

“No, I mean like-” Kageyama waved his hand in the air, trying to find the words and stop Bokuto from going off on a tangent that would only worsen his headache. “Keeping up with everything.” Bokuto gave him a quizzical look and he sighed, continuing. “Like school and volleyball and social stuff and work.”

“Ohh,” Bokuto leaned back, nodding in understanding. He shrugged. “I just have a lot of energy, I’ve always been doing a lot of stuff. I guess I’m just used to it?”

That... was not a satisfying answer. Kageyama was being _destroyed_ trying to keep up with just a fraction of what Bokuto excelled at, and the reason was because he wasn’t... as good at it? It seemed unfair, like he wasn’t trying hard enough, like his dad was right. But he _was_ , he was on the verge of running himself into the ground and not seeing any results. Working hard wasn’t proving to be rewarding in the least bit, so why was it for Bokuto?

“Of course,” Bokuto continued, “a pep pill every once in a while doesn’t hurt.”

“What, you mean like... drugs?”

Bokuto shrugged. “Yeah. Even I need a little help sometimes.”

Kageyama had heard that Bokuto was an avid user of amphetamines for more than just recreational use from Kuroo, and that it would result in crashes by the end of his little stint. But he was also told Bokuto resorted to it in extreme situations, like final exams coinciding with a tournament or something, and that it was something to worry about. He knew about it all, and yet it still came as some sort of surprise secret when Bokuto told him himself.

“Sometimes everything gets to be just... too much. I can handle it a lot of the time, but sometimes I just need that extra bit of help,” Bokuto mused, as if he were talking about a cup of coffee and not an illicit drug. “It’s not that big a’deal, I know what I’m doing. I just get overbooked sometimes and need more time and energy, and it helps.”

Kageyama nodded, slumping against the couch and rubbing his head. That... made a bit more sense. It’s not exactly the answer he was looking for, seeming just as impossible as “try harder” advice-wise, but it made more sense. It wasn’t just that he couldn’t handle it.

“You want a pill or something?” Bokuto asked, looking concerned.

“Huh? Oh! No, no thank you, it’s... it’s only like three o’clock and I’m going to be studyi-“

Bokuto laughed. “No, I meant like ibuprofen. For your headache?”

“Oh.” Kageyama’s cheeks pinked a bit, and he tucked his chin into his sweater. “Sure.”

Bokuto hopped up and headed to the kitchen to accommodate his hungover guest, taking out a glass and filling it with water. “So,” he called over the partition where he could still see Kageyama rub his temples, “how’re you and Kuroo... lately?”

“Uh, good!” Kageyama tried not to sound too downtrodden over the whole relationship he now had with Kuroo. He was glad things were slowly becoming more comfortable and normal with the other, but it still didn’t completely quell the ache in his chest whenever he thought about the fact he’d been rejected in a roundabout way. On top of that, in order to not completely lose Kuroo and have things be awkward between them and eventually lose his entire new group of friends he worked so hard for, he had to act like this is all what he wanted, too. And maybe eventually it would be that way, but for now, he deserved a damn Oscar for being able to fool everyone.

“Really?” Bokuto asked, retrieving the pain relief medication from a cabinet.

“Yeah, definitely. This is all... great.” Kageyama forced a weak smile, and, luckily for him, Bokuto just wrote it off because of the headache.

“You guys did seem to have a lot of fun last night.” He gave Kageyama a sly smile as he rounded the partition and handed him the water and pills. Kageyama quickly hid his pinking face by downing those pills like a champ and chugging cheekfuls of water.

He didn’t need a reminder of his foolish actions of last night, his headache was enough proof.

Just then, they heard a key in the door and Kuroo walked in. As the saying goes, “speak of the devil”, but the sweet little smile Kageyama almost didn’t catch and the greeting was anything but devilish. For once.

“Rough night?” Kuroo nodded at the empty glass and the pill bottle sitting on the coffee table, teetering on the edge where Kageyama had pushed aside a handful of papers to make some room.

Kageyama forced out a nervous laugh – more a huff of air than anything – and frowned when it sounded foreign to him. Instead, he cleared his throat and continued on as normal. Or as normal as Kageyama could get. “Little bit. Think I drank too much last night.”

“You think?” Bokuto laughed. “You fell asleep on the porch.”

Kageyama shot him a glare and slumped in his seat. Kuroo laughed and plopped down next to him, patting his shoulder. “We’ve all been there. Did you still wanna study, or just take it easy?”

Truthfully, he didn’t want to study at all. He’d rather watch TV, or talk, or just fall asleep right where he sat. He’d rather do anything right now than try to focus on his notes or on Kuroo’s lectures, no matter how tuned they are to Kageyama’s learning skills. But that glaring _D_ in the back of his mind made his anxiety rise deep in his chest and he knew he had to just power through this time.

“No, let’s study.”

“Okay.” Kuroo clapped his hands together and rubbed them quick, like he was trying to light a fire. Too bad Kageyama was a bit of a damp towel today, and even when he sat cross-legged on the couch opposite Kuroo and tried his very best to keep up with his explanations, it was falling flat.

There was no way he’d be able to focus today, so he slowly began to give up and tune out the words Kuroo was saying in favour of just focusing on the sound of his voice. Whatever he was talking about, he was certainly into it. Maybe Kuroo should be a teacher, Kageyama offhandedly thought. He makes an effort to get Kageyama to understand what’s being taught, even showed him new and easier ways to study. The only downside is if Kageyama had a teacher like Kuroo in high school, he almost certainly would’ve never paid attention to what was being taught.

Kind of like he was doing right now. Ah, how fantasy imitates life.

The realization that he was fantasizing, albeit quite tamely, instead of _studying_ hit him like an express bus and Kageyama snapped back to what Kuroo was talking about, shaking his head and blinking rapidly.

“Confused?” Kuroo asked.

“No, just... zoned out,” Kageyama admitted.

“Alright.” Kuroo leaned back and heaved himself off the couch. “Time for a break. You look a little fried.”

“More so than usual?” Kageyama tried to joke but ended up just grumbling. He was too tired to even put a lighter tone into his voice.

Kuroo still found it funny, though, and grinned at the other. “Little bit.”

Kageyama looked pretty worn down, but Kuroo’s heart still fluttered at Kageyama’s tired tug of his lips on one side – a quasi smile. He stared for a moment before realizing what he was doing and quickly turned away. Kuroo wasn’t the type to feel butterflies, but here they were, flapping in his belly much to his annoyance.

“Anyway,” he continued, filling the silence between them, “breaks are important.”

Kageyama made an affirmative noise, moving the textbooks from the couch to stretch out, rolling on his stomach and pulling a pillow up in his arms for his head to rest on. Kuroo peeked from around the partition, fetching a couple glasses and a bag of snacks, to see Kageyama making himself rather comfortable.

It made him feel good. A slow, growing warmth, like Kageyama was finally relaxed enough with him and in his apartment to treat it like home. The kid was far from his sleepy town and shoved in a tiny dorm room, and Kuroo just wanted him to feel comfortable. He lived in Tokyo, so he couldn’t imagine how it felt to be more than a few train stops away from home, so he was glad he could provide some relief for the boy, even if it just was a comfy couch.

Within minutes, though, he heard the soft snores, almost inaudible if it weren’t for their quiet apartment, coming from the back of Kageyama’s throat.

The kid was pretty worn out, so Kuroo saved all their pages in the books, shuffled their notes quietly, and pulled a soft blanket from off the armchair and draped it over Kageyama.

He deserved a break. Kuroo knew how hard he worked, and with the growing bags under his already dark eyes, he worried a bit for the boy. So instead of waking him up or pushing studying, he’d let him rest.

Rest only came few and far between for him.

 

 

Kageyama was drenched with sweat. His clothes stuck to him and he could feel his skin crawl, but nevertheless he was satisfied. Volleyball practice was paying off, both in terms of self and team progress, and making him so bone tired he could finally collapse when he got home.

He never stopped, though. If he wasn’t staying late to practice more on his own, then the second he flopped on his bed he was pulling up a notebook and textbook and cracking down there. He didn’t think he’d ever worked so hard at anything before, and here he was doing it with _both_ volleyball and schoolwork. And that wasn’t even counting the social strides he was making lately.

He was even feeling closer with his teammates, taking time to run some setting and spiking drills during one of their practices. It helped him hone his skills, not just with the players but with the _regulars_. He was getting better, and the team didn’t need much asking, telling Kageyama how exactly he could improve and what they wanted.

He couldn’t help the pride swelling in his chest; if this had been middle school, or even the beginning of high school, he would’ve taken it as an insult, criticism where it wasn’t asked, but now he saw it as nothing more than another way to improve. He may be the one directing the show, but he was also there to serve others.

His team was nice, though. Bokuto was the most boisterous and energetic of them all, though, which was good preparation for Kageyama to deal with the rest. He didn’t know them well, and would hardly call them friends, but they made him feel like he was a part of the team, and some regulars even asked him to set for them outside of practice.

It was at one such unofficial practice where Bokuto joined them, always ready to play a little volleyball, especially if it was just spiking practice.

It was exhilarating to practice with Bokuto, with his powerful spikes that broke the blocks on the other side. His excitement was infectious. It provided that last little surge of adrenaline that was buried deep in Kageyama’s tired arms and legs.

If there was anything he hated, it was being exhausted. Kageyama tended to push himself and push himself until he couldn’t push anymore, no matter how much he wanted to keep going. It was just another obstacle, one that prevented him from endlessly bettering himself, dragged down by his human limitations.

It’s what made him improve at an alarming rate, but never feel adequate enough. It’s what created a rift between him and previous teammates, when he pushed himself further than anyone in their right mind would do. It’s what made him get up in the middle of the night and go for a run.

Well, for most of those, it was half the reason. It was probably _also_ the reason he could barely sleep, his mind racing with thoughts of what he _could_ be doing and wasn’t, a sluggish whirlwind of anxiety and shame.

And practicing with Bokuto drove all that right out and gave him that last little push.

Of course, now that Kageyama knew the secret behind Bokuto’s boundless energy, it made him feel that much more proud he was even able to keep up without any outside help. For the time being.

“God,” one of their teammates sighed, flopping on the gym floor in a sweaty, tired heap. “Don’t you two ever get tired?”

Most of the ones that stayed behind to practice had already tuckered out by this point, relegating themselves to the benches for water breaks or back to the locker rooms to get ready to go home. The only two that stayed standing and ready for more were Bokuto and Kageyama, and even the latter could feel himself waning.

“Nah,” Bokuto said, waving off their teammate. “Never too tired for volleyball, right?” He elbowed Kageyama in the side with a sly wink, and the fact that Kageyama _was_ tired ate at him a bit. Sure, he was proud he could do more than the others, but Bokuto was barely breathing heavy and Kageyama wanted a break.

He could feel the competitiveness inside him break out.

Kageyama picked up another volleyball from the cart and tossed it to Bokuto, wiping his face with the collar of his shirt before getting into position. Bokuto threw up the ball for Kageyama to set. He was in the perfect spot, perfect position, eyes tracking the ball as it arced through the air. He readied himself, arms up, fingers splayed. He felt the weight drop in his fingertips, and then...

His brain stuttered and his body lagged. The set was sloppy and completely missed Bokuto’s spike, bouncing off the floor pathetically and rolling off to the sideline.

The gym was quiet after that anticlimactic set, their teammates just staring at Kageyama, who, up until this point, had never missed a toss quite that bad.

“Ha!” Bokuto laughed it off, approaching Kageyama and clapping him on the shoulder. “Guess it’s time for us to call it a day, huh?”

Kageyama’s cheeks burned with the embarrassment of actually having to quit due to exhaustion, and that everyone was around to witness it, but he nodded in defeat and got ready for cleanup.

As he stooped down to pick up a volleyball, his head felt light and black spots flashed in front of his eyes. It was like a head rush, except he wasn’t standing up and had to catch his fall with an outstretched arm. It wasn’t too bad, clearly, as he just stumbled the last few inches to the floor and nobody even noticed.

He helped everyone else clean up as usual, tried not to fall asleep on the bench tying his shoelaces after he got dressed, and walked with Bokuto and the others out of the gym.

“Hey,” Bokuto said, nudging Kageyama in the side, “get some rest tonight.” Kageyama nodded absent-mindedly. “Good, ‘cause tomorrow we’re all gonna go out! You in?” Kageyama shrugged, tired. “Aww come on! It’ll be fun!”

Truthfully, Kageyama did want to go. It was a great way to let off steam, and not going could risk him slowly being phased out of the group or missing something vital. He was just too tired to care at the moment, but Bokuto’s incessant pleading was grating on his delicate nerves, so he agreed, rather annoyed.

He just wanted to go home and sleep.

 

 

Despite getting a fair amount of sleep – enough that people would even consider it normal – Kageyama did not feel well rested the next day. He spent his day relaxing, sticking to light readings and note taking with many, many breaks, and hardly left his dorm room, save for the bathroom and to make a trip to the vending machine.

He figured he earned a bit of a relaxed day, especially when he felt much too exhausted to even attempt anything more than what he was doing.

Besides, he had agreed to go out tonight, and he _wanted_ to go out tonight, and needed to save up what precious energy he had to get through tonight. One of the few enjoyable things in his life at the moment were his nights out with his new friends, and, much to his rapidly heating cheeks, spending time with Kuroo.

So no, a little exhaustion was not going to stop him from going out tonight. He can rest tomorrow, and then prepare for his test the next day. See? All it took was a little planning, and Kageyama could fit in everything.

Even if it was wearing him thin.

During one of his day naps, his phone buzzed loudly on his night side table, waking him up. A little annoyed, he pulled up the new message from Akaashi, telling him he’d be by to pick him up tonight on his way from picking up the others and what his address was.

After replying, Kageyama looked at the clock and the setting sun and realized it was getting late. He should shower and get ready to go out, so he heaved himself out of his warm, comfortable bed and down the hall for the showers.

He scrubbed himself raw, making sure he was as clean as whistle inside and out, especially after skipping a shower for the last few days in favour of his bed.

He dressed comfortably, but in something he thought Yachi would say looked decent enough, and waited quietly in his room for a call that they were on their way.

He didn’t bother turning on any of his lights, letting the room grow dark around him as the last rays of sunshine disappeared behind the city buildings and beyond the horizon, and the city lights lit up for a long night.

Lights streaked through his blinds and across his wall and door, his eyes trailing them. Sitting stagnant like this was liable for his exhaustion to catch up with him, or even fall asleep sitting up, so he tried focusing.

Focus on the lights. Focus on tonight. Focus on his friends. Focus on volleyball. Focus on school work. Focus on the ever-nearing deadlines. Focus on the fact he wasn’t a regular on the team yet. Focus on the glaring _D_ on his last test. Focus on his waning school grades. Focus on the boxes and boxes of takeout and cup noodles that littered his floor. Focus on his limited time with his new friends. Focus on his dad’s threat to bring him home should he not yield the desirable grades this year. Focus on his future and dreams and everything he worked for slipping through his fingers.

Focus on Kuroo.

Things were getting better with him. He was helping him study even more as of late, and despite that rocky time after their fateful night, the awkwardness had more or less dissipated.

Sure, he still _really_ liked Kuroo, but Kageyama was slowly coming to terms with how their relationship was playing out. Or rather, he was slowly ignoring how it ate him up and tried his best to just accept it. Fake it till you make it, right? It was only a matter of time before Kuroo supposedly got bored with him, and then it’d be over. He should be savoring these moments with him, and the rest of the group.

He wouldn’t blame Kuroo when he got bored and they slowly drifted apart, honestly. Kageyama was never good at keeping what few friends he made. He even surprised himself when a few teammates from high school stuck around with him even up until now, sending him texts every once in a while or a funny picture. Hinata still called him when they both had the time, and even if it wasn’t as frequent as it was before, they fell back into their friendship easily.

Kageyama sort of expected his time with this new group of friends to be limited. Besides, how much did he really have in common with any of them? They were all older, and so much more ambitious in their respective fields of study. They all seemed so smart and savvy, and though they all seemed to take school seriously and even excelled in a lot of ways, they were all pretty laidback, too. Not to mention they were what Kageyama considered to be “cool”. They went out partying and drank and did drugs and everything Kageyama was taught by television and other kids he’d hear around the halls at school was considered cool and popular.

The only things Kageyama really shared in common with any of them was the fact that he played volleyball, which, albeit wasn’t the _worst_ thing to share in common, it was still rather... lackluster. He still played competitively, while most of the others played for fun occasionally. Bokuto may be the only one he’d still see around, and that was only because they played on the same team and he was so outgoing.

Kageyama knew his time was limited, even if he didn’t want it to be. No, the group may not share a lot of things in common with him, but they were all pretty relaxed and welcoming, not making him feel any awkward than he already would’ve felt by himself. He actually quite liked this newfound group of friends, and he was going to miss them a lot when they drifted apart. He just didn’t know when that was.

He was probably going to miss Kuroo the most. Actually, he was _definitely_ going to miss Kuroo the most. Miss his dumb jokes and goofy smiles, or the way he got animated when telling a story or teaching a subject he was into. How he always tried to wipe away a smile, but could never reign it in enough. His stupid, soft, mess of a bedhead. How he always seemed to know the right thing to say or do, and how he genuinely seemed to like hanging out with Kageyama. His broad shoulders and tan skin and -

His train of thought was halted, thankfully, from going too far when his phone buzzed and a message popped up from Akaashi saying that he was on his way and would be there in a few minutes.

Kageyama left his jumble of thoughts in his darkened dorm room when the door clicked shut behind him, heading downstairs for a long night out. A night out he was going to enjoy, regardless of his situation. A night out with his friends before it was too late. A night out with Kuroo, in spite of his true feelings.

Not long after he got outside did Akaashi pull up in a minivan, and the rest of the gang was filed inside. Yaku waved at him from the passenger window and Hanamaki opened the sliding door for him to squeeze inside, too.

Kageyama remained fairly quiet for the short ride and even up until they got inside their first club of the night. As much as he wanted to be out and enjoy his friends’ company, he wasn’t much in the mood for socializing and didn’t have anything interesting to say.

Maybe it would’ve been better if he had just stayed home.

Kuroo noticed Kageyama’s silence, however, and leaned against the bar top next to him, chin in hand on the counter. “What’s cookin’, good lookin’?” he opened with in an attempt to earn a smile and lighten the mood.

Kageyama cracked a small, tired smile, but pushed Kuroo away by the face before he could get a good look. “Shut up.”

“You’re pretty quiet today,” Kuroo said, straightening up and waving down Saeko, who was working behind the bar tonight. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Kageyama nodded. “Just kinda...”

“Stressed?”

“I guess,” he shrugged. “Mostly tired.”

It wasn’t any new information, but it still sort of worried Kuroo. “You been getting enough sleep?”

Kageyama snorted. “I got, like, 10 hours today.” Which was way more than anything he was used to. He shrugged. “Just still kinda tired.”

“Hm,” Kuroo said in thought. He knew the boy was stressed and overworking himself a bit, which is why he urged him to take a break when he could and let him sleep when they were supposed to be studying. After what happened with his father, Kuroo wasn’t surprised the kid was looking more and more tired, but this only made him more concerned. “Maybe you should go home. I can call you a cab?”

“Nah,” Kageyama sighed, tapping his fingers on the countertop. “I came to hang out tonight, and honestly, with all the shit coming up this week, I kinda need to. Just need to wake up a bit.”

“Okay...” Kuroo said a little skeptically, but he knew the importance of blowing off a little steam, so he was going to help Kageyama have a bit of fun.

When Saeko came over and greeted them, Kuroo ordered them both drinks, despite Saeko’s distrusting look.

Not wanting to further sour Kageyama’s mood, he decided to ask Kageyama how volleyball was going.

“Okay.” He shrugged. “I’ve been practicing a lot with Bokuto and some of the other regulars. If I keep doing what I’m doing, I might be able to prove myself to coach and join them before the semester’s over.”

Kuroo nodded. “That’d be pretty good for you, just don’t wear yourself out trying.”

Kageyama quirked his face, like Kuroo had said something ridiculous and out of the question. Rather than say anything and risk getting into an argument – one he _really_ didn’t want to have, especially tonight – he just took the drink Saeko placed in front of him and swallowed it down, along with some oppositional words.

Kuroo sensed he may have struck a sort of sensitive chord, and even though he was genuinely concerned and wanted to lecture Kageyama about the dangers of spreading himself too thin, he didn’t. Kageyama was probably already more than aware, but was facing a lot of pressure right now. So far, he was seemingly managing things sort of okay, besides from the lack of sleep, but he attributed that to stress. So to help, Kuroo should get him to _de-_ stress. And that meant no arguing and no lecturing. Now was the time to be a good friend, not a meddlesome one.

“Hey.” Matsukawa approached them at the bar and nodded further into the club. “We found some seats.”

Kuroo looked to Kageyama, raising his eyebrows in a silent question to see if the boy wanted to join them. Kageyama shrugged, picked up his drink, and followed Matsukawa back through the crowd to one of the small seating areas in one of the back corners of the club, with Kuroo tailing not too far behind.

The rest of the group was already lounging around the couches, save for Yaku who had disappeared with someone back to the bar to talk. _Away_ from his nosey, insufferable friends. Kuroo plopped down on one of the couches next to Bokuto, whose arms were splayed across the back and one leg crossed over the other.

“Hey!” He greeted, sliding over a bit so Kuroo could scoot in next to Kageyama on the other side. He pulled Kageyama close, hooking his arm that was outstretched around the boy’s neck. “Ready for a fun night?”

Kageyama squirmed against him, uncomfortable and, due to the lack of sleep, a little short fused. The last thing he wanted right now was to be jerked around. He just wanted to sit here.

“What’s the plan?” Kuroo asked over the boy, helping him by shoving Bokuto’s arm off.

Bokuto didn’t seem to notice, or care. “Found Ritsu and scored.”

“No shit,” Hanamaki said, leaning in to better hear, “he’s here?”

Bokuto nodded excitedly. “Saw him outside, but I think he’s headed somewhere else.”

“Shame.” Hanamaki shook his head, sitting back again.

Bokuto looked expectantly to the two sitting next to him, fully prepared for them to share his enthusiasm for the coming attraction, but just saw Kageyama slumped in his seat and nursing a drink.

“What’s wrong with him?” he asked Kuroo, thumbing to the sad lump of a friend between them.

“Run down,” Kuroo spoke for him. Kageyama nodded in agreement, never letting his glass leave his lips.

“Oh.” A wicked, mischievous grin cracked Bokuto’s face. “Have I got something for you.”

Kageyama, curious, let the glass drop to his lap, almost empty, but he was feeling no more alive. He watched Bokuto reach in his pocket and pull out a little dime size baggie with a few small, round, white tablets sitting snug inside.

Kageyama... expected more. In all honesty, he was too tired for this grandiose reveal that felt deflated when it just ended up looking like a few over-the-counter pills in a bag, so whatever this was, he expected more. More information, less inflation.

“Okay. What is it?”

Bokuto shrugged. “Something that’ll... wake you up.”

Sick of the vague answers he was getting, he turned to Kuroo.

“MDMA,” Kuroo offered, as Bokuto tossed a second bag to Hanamaki and Matsukawa, who were sitting on the couch opposite them. “It’s a stimulant. It’ll increase your serotonin and energy levels for a good while. Of course, it’ll also skew your percep-”

“It’ll make you happy and awake,” Matsukawa finished for him, halting Kuroo before he really got into a long-winded explanation that was sure to just further Kageyama’s headache.

“Among other things,” Hanamaki snorted, lifting his own glass to his mouth. Kageyama’s eyebrows bunched together and he turned, searching Kuroo for answers to this vague implication.

“Uh,” Kuroo gaped a bit, wondering how he could properly explain this without holding any information – Kageyama should know _exactly_ what he was getting into before he did anything – but without sounding, well... kinda creepy. “Well- uh, a common side effect is an increase in sensitivity to the sympathetic sys-”

“It makes touch feel _great_.” Kuroo was thankful of what little blessing it was that Hanamaki avoided using the word “horny”. When he caught the man’s eye and the sly wink, he wasn’t so sure it was avoided by accident; Kuroo knew his friends well enough to know what that look meant.

Sometimes he wished his friends would stop trying to help him get laid.

Kageyama shrugged, though. If it helped dig him out of this hole of exhaustion and depression, he’ll take it. Much to Kuroo’s surprise, Kageyama didn’t ask any more questions, or even say anything at all. The only thing he did was let his hand languidly flop open on his wrist in front of Bokuto, waiting for him to hand over the pill so he could get on with having fun. He was tired of being tired.

“Alright,” Bokuto started, heaving himself up after handing out the pills like they were breath mints.

“Where are you going?” Matsukawa asked, already having crushed his up and put it in his drink – he wasn’t big on swallowing it whole.

“Bathroom to parachute, then dance probably.” He clasped Kageyama’s shoulder on his way out of their corner and towards the crowds. “Have fun.”

Kageyama eyed the others, watching Matsukawa down his drink and Hanamaki pop the pill. He looked at Kuroo, an obvious question written across his face, but didn’t ask. It’s not like he needed to, Kuroo could read him pretty well.

“Just swallow it.” Kageyama nodded in understanding, popping the pill and swallowing hard. He winced a bit, shaking his head – it went down harder than an ibuprofen that was for sure – but it was down and now he could just sit back and wait.

Kuroo placed his hand on Kageyama’s head – a soothing gesture – and waited it out for the boy’s sake. Kuroo had done ecstasy quite a few times in his hay day, but it was mostly an occasional thing now. It’d been a little while since he last did it, but it wasn’t anything new. For Kageyama, though, it was his first time, and it’s not like he had any energy to begin with, so they were going to wait.

To pass the time, the four of them talked. As much as Kageyama didn’t want to think about school, the topic did come up. At the very least, it was about school flubs, and no one asked him to share any stories, of which he had many. Too many.

Kuroo was telling them about a paper he had to write a few years back and how he managed to get it done despite not once coming to class sober.

“You think that’s bad,” Hanamaki interjected, “Mattsun still can’t write a paper without smoking first.”

“At least I get them done,” Matsukawa retorted.

“How’d your analysis on Psykhe go last week?” Hanamaki asked, one accusatory eyebrow raised.

“Didn’t do it, was too high.”

Kuroo burst out laughing, and even Kageyama couldn’t help it. Their energy was infectious. Or at least, that’s what he thought, but within the hour of him taking the pill, he felt life flow back into him. He felt the energy return, and before he even realized, it was back in full force.

“Hey.” He turned to Kuroo. “Do you wanna go...?” he trailed off, nodding in the direction of the dance floor. Sitting here and talking with everyone was nice and all, but it wasn’t enough. He actually kind of felt like dancing. With Kuroo. Specifically.

Kuroo noticed it must’ve finally hit him – he’d felt it coming for a bit, gradually, but he’d been fine just sitting and enjoying everyone’s company. One person maybe more than others, but in general it was just fine.

However, he was not going to pass up the opportunity to spend quality time in close proximity with Kageyama.

He nodded quick, allowing Kageyama to drag him off the couch and ignoring the low wolf whistle from Matsukawa as best he could, but it wasn’t too hard when not even a minute later he had his hands on Kageyama’s hips and could get lost in the rhythm and the bass, and, even if he didn’t allow himself to admit it, Kageyama’s eyes.

It was just too easy not to. Not this close and this high, honestly. Not when Kageyama put his hands on Kuroo’s and moved them up his sides and round to the small of his back, or when he rolled his hips into Kuroo’s. Not when adrenaline and euphoria surged through his veins and just turned his desire to touch the boy into a _need_.

Kageyama couldn’t much help it either. Every touch between him and Kuroo was already electric, but it was like going from a static shock to a lightning storm. And it made him crave more. To press closer, to run his hands up Kuroo’s strong arms, round the back of his neck and into his thick hair. To pull him down into a heated kiss, unable to fight the smile that spread when he pulled away upon seeing Kuroo’s grin.

Kageyama was relieved to find his energy return to him in full force, and he didn’t feel his inhibitions waning. Kuroo ran his hands up the back of Kageyama’s shirt, and he leaned into the searing touch. He could easily just lose himself in the rhythm of it all – of the music, of the dancing, of the way Kuroo’s hands explored and mapped him out like this was the first time he got to touch. He could focus entirely on the here and now, shutting anything out that just didn’t matter. He didn’t have to think, he could just move.

The two lost track of time, and it’s not like anyone came to bother them. They were lost in their own world, insulated by the rumbling bass and the pulsating crowd.

Before either of them even knew it, the curious, innocent touches became laced with a slow burning sexual desire, and the fun little pecks shared between friends in between breathy laughter turned into scorching, deep kisses, ones where Kuroo would wrap his arms around the other and lift him right off the floor.

They found themselves edging slowly out of the crowd, getting pushed to the outer ring and to a wall, and honestly Kuroo couldn’t complain. It was just a bit more private, a bit more secluded, and here he could let the adrenaline take over. He lifted Kageyama up, hands under his thighs, and pushed him up against the wall in a far corner of the club, able to press his full body against him and further deepen their kiss. Kageyama wrapped his arms Kuroo’s neck, pulling him closer and rolling his hips into Kuroo’s.

For a brief moment, Kuroo could forget they were in a packed club and just enjoy it. It seemed like they’d been there against the wall for hours, but for all he knew it could’ve been a couple minutes. Much to his dismay, he was slowly dragged back to reality when someone bumped into him while passing by and he regretfully had to pull away just to speak.

“Hey,” he began, out of breath but refusing to move even more than an inch away from Kageyama’s lips, “wanna get out of here?”

“Yeah.” Kageyama sounds just as breathless, but oddly very comfortable and casual. It brought a wide smile to Kuroo’s mouth, and he couldn’t help but kiss him again, long and deep.

Despite wanting to get somewhere a lot more private and get each other out of these pesky clothes, they got distracted and lost in each other again, hands travelling up and down and under clothing, skimming bellies and shoulder blades and tangling in hair. When Kuroo could feel the blood rush south, and really not wanting to pop a boner in a club – tonight, at least – he had to drag himself away again, setting Kageyama back on the floor.

He took the boy by the hand and they squeezed their way through the crowd and back out to the street. It was just early enough in the night on the main strip that taxis were still hanging around, waiting to scoop up some of the bar and club crowd, so it wasn’t hard for Kuroo to hail one and for the two of them to slide into the back seat.

Luckily, they weren’t too far from Kuroo’s apartment, so things wouldn’t have to get too awkward in the cab. Both still had half a mind to not continue anything and make the ride too uncomfortable for their driver, so they sat in comfortable silence, even if adrenaline and anticipation still raked over their nerves and made their fingers twitch closer on the pleather seat.

Kageyama leaned his head against the window, allowing himself to enjoy the lights whizzing by in a blur. It must’ve rained a bit while they were at the club, as the streets were freshly wet and reflected passing neon lights and lampposts, making the asphalt and metal signs shine. Kuroo, however, took the opportunity to admire the other.  Every pull of his lips and trace of eyes made Kuroo’s heart swell, so he inched his fingers across that final gap and took Kageyama’s warm hand, gaining his attention. When Kageyama turned around, Kuroo wasted no time leaning across the seat and kissing him, soft and sweet, long enough to satiate them both.

He indulged himself just a moment longer when Kageyama grasped the front of his shirt and pulled him in closer with a shuddering, anticipatory breath, but Kuroo pulled away again before things got too hot. The cab turned on to his street and pulled up in front of the building not even a minute later, and they quietly made their way up to Kuroo’s dark apartment.

Once inside, a familiar scene played out; Kageyama pressed against the wall, fingers tangled in the thick mess of Kuroo’s hair; soft, pliant lips against his in a sweet, but `intense kiss. Kuroo was the one to run his hands up underneath Kageyama’s shirt, unable to suppress his groan when Kageyama gasped and arched into the searing touch.

They wasted no more time and quickly made their way through the dark apartment to Kuroo’s room. Once the door softly clicked behind him, Kuroo was caught off guard when he was grabbed and pulled by the collar of his shirt into a much more hungry, much more _heated_ kiss that made him groan.

Before he could even get his bearings, Kageyama pressed a hand to his chest and pushed him back on the bed before climbing on top and straddling him. Kuroo leaned up to kiss him again, but was promptly pushed back down, Kageyama bending down to meet him again in a deep kiss, pinning Kuroo underneath.

Kuroo ran his hands up the backs of Kageyama’s thighs and came to rest on his ass, each grabbing and squeezing a handful of flesh. Kageyama moaned low into the kiss, grinding down which in turn only lit Kuroo’s nerves and had his hips grinding back up.

Kuroo was able to slip his hands up underneath Kageyama’s shirt and he arched his back, inhaling sharply and breaking their kiss to slip the offending clothing up and over his head, casting it off into a corner and knocking something over, but neither of them could be bothered to even look.

Kageyama sat up, and Kuroo groaned again at the disheveled look the other now sported. Hair mussed, eyes glassy, lips full and cheeks rosy, blush reaching down his neck and to his chest. The soft blue light streaming through the blinds created a sort of halo around his near naked form, and it may have been the E filling his mind with sweet cotton, but he couldn’t stop his hands reaching up and grazing the soft skin of Kageyama’s stomach, or the words tumbling from his lips.

“You’re really pretty,” Kuroo breathed, not thinking. There were many things Kuroo could’ve blurted out, lips loosened by the drug still coursing through his system – things that could’ve potentially ruined this whole relationship, feelings spilled and emotions compromised – but this confession was a relief, his heart fluttering and breath short.

It stopped when Kageyama frowned and cast his eyes just off to the side.

“Of all the things I’ve been called, ‘pretty’ is not one of them.”

Kuroo didn’t know what to say. He didn’t even know what to _think_. Kageyama was so quietly beautiful, stormy or still like the ocean his eyes reflected; his presence a strong, chilly wind rolling off the waters and sinking comfortably into Kuroo’s bones; his smile a rare peek of sunshine through stormy, grey clouds. Kuroo couldn’t imagine anyone thinking, much less _saying_ the opposite.

And it slowly dawned on him. All the little mannerisms that gave away Kageyama’s insecurity about being _hounded_ by his appearance – by friends, by family, by complete strangers. The way he’d muffle his laughs into a shaking silence, how he’d hide his smile by biting the inside of his cheek or hiding it behind a hand, his shy approach to even just dancing without the aid of a little confidence in a glass, joint, or pill.

It didn’t seem fair.

Not wanting to spill how he felt – about this now found realization _or_ his undisclosed feelings towards the other – he reached up, his fingers gently brushing Kageyama’s stomach and winding round his side. Kuroo leaned up on one arm and kissed him, soft and sweet and hopefully enough to get the comfort across without giving away his true intentions.

Kageyama hesitated a moment, still lost in his thoughts, lost in the self deprecation he was suddenly hit by when Kuroo dared to divert from what so many others had told him. It never _used_ to bother him, not when he was younger, but the harsh words – even if said by friends and family with good intentions – piled and piled and crushed any kind of self confidence he may have ever dreamed to have.

He went from such an emotional high to feeling lost in the sea of his own mind, and Kuroo slowly brought him back to shore. If he was going to get lost, he’d much rather lose himself in the way Kuroo’s hands softly grazed his side and how slow his lips moved against his, and Kageyama kissed back.

For a while, that’s just all they did. Kuroo ran his hands up and down Kageyama’s side and back until he was shuddering again before breaking away to gently reverse their positions, settling between Kageyama’s legs and returning with a deeper kiss.

Kageyama grasped and pulled at Kuroo’s shirt incessantly, like he wanted to rip it off, but refused to cease kissing him long enough to pull it off. He whined at the loss of warm body and deep kisses when Kuroo pulled himself away just to tug it over his head and cast it off, arching up into his hips.

By the time they’d both stripped down to their boxers, their heat and urgency returned in full force, especially when Kageyama ran his hand up Kuroo’s spine and Kuroo pressed him deeper into the mattress.

Kuroo peppered kisses down the line of Kageyama’s throat and into his clavicle, relishing in the way Kageyama’s breathing grew shallow and short. He dipped lower, kissing down his chest and stomach and to the tent in his boxer briefs.

Kageyama laced his fingers in the thick tangles of Kuroo’s hair while he continued to kiss and mouth over the fabric before tugging it down with his teeth and licking a broad stripe up his cock and taking it in his mouth.

Kageyama didn’t indulge him long, though, far too overwhelmed and seeking the searing comfort of Kuroo’s kisses, dragging him back up for more. Instead, he wanted to move things along as fast as he could, eager for the main event he knew was coming.

Kuroo wasn’t too far behind, adrenaline and lust guiding his hand to reach into the bedside drawer for lube and a condom, barely closing it before he sat up to tug Kageyama’s underwear down the rest of the way and tossing them off to the side.

He barely got a chance to uncap the bottle and pour a gracious amount on his fingers before Kageyama tugged him back down again, unable to resist as much skin touching as possible. Kuroo certainly didn’t mind the unbridled hunger and confidence the other radiated, returning it in full force.

Kageyama was unable to take the much needed breath in before Kuroo was circling his hole and plunged a finger inside, too caught up in the heated and frankly sloppy kiss they shared. Kageyama arched and pulled Kuroo closer, though there wasn’t much room to spare at this point, wrapping a leg around the other. Kuroo took the opportunity to lift Kageyama’s leg, unwinding it from around his middle and pressing it to the bed, earning him a low groan and Kageyama biting and pulling at his lip.

Time crept by at a snail’s pace, the two of them taking their sweet time and indulging themselves in the sweet warmth and electrifying touch of each other.

Kageyama grew impatient and giddy when Kuroo was up to three fingers and lazily pumping without going anywhere further, just grinding against the inside of his thigh through soaked boxers, so without warning he pulled away from the kiss, wrapped his legs around Kuroo, and flipped their positions.

Caught off guard, Kuroo’s brain hadn’t really caught up with him as his world was turned and he found himself – and his hands – pressed back into the mattress and a hungry and arguably annoyed look in Kageyama’s eyes.

He couldn’t help the sly smirk that spread. Especially when Kageyama moved back long enough to just tug down Kuroo’s boxers far enough for his cock to spring free and hold it steady as e lowered himself down on it.

Both Kuroo and Kageyama groaned in unison at the new sensation; if the last time felt like a shock to their cores, then this was a lightning strike, increased two, _ten_ fold by the effects of the mdma from earlier.

It drove Kageyama to seek _more_ , seek as much friction and feeling as possible, and drove his hips to move before either of them could truly catch their breath. He started with a slow pace, gasping when he dropped back down, but rapidly sped up with quiet moans and hiccups, placing his hands on Kuroo’s chest for better leverage.

Kuroo moved his hands up the backs of Kageyama’s thighs and up over his hips, keeping them there with slow strokes of his thumbs over the soft skin, watching Kageyama fuck himself harder and faster on him.

The stuffy, stagnant air of his room filled with the musk of sweat and sex and the heavy breaths from them both. Kuroo swore under his breath, unable to form a sentence that consisted of more than just the word “fuck” or Kageyama’s sweet name, but he could safely say he was doing better than the other, who could only moan and whine and utter half of Kuroo’s name before his face pinched in barely contained pleasure.

Kageyama shook from it, his thrusts stuttering whenever he found the spot that ran shockwaves up his spine and made it hard to concentrate on the task at hand. When he found the perfect angle, it weakened his legs and arms and slowed him to a frustrating pace that Kuroo just couldn’t stand.

Pulling Kageyama down for a rough kiss, he wrapped one arm around him to hold him in pace and the other grasping and squeezing an ass cheek, pulling and separating it from the other. After a quick readjustment of his legs for better leverage, he allowed his desire to completely overtake him this once, driving up into Kageyama at a rough and alarming pace.

Kageyama was near yelling at the frantic pace, senses overwhelmed and pulled tight, like a rubber band about to snap and sting your skin. He buried his face in the crook of Kuroo’s neck, muffling his cries as he reached new heights of pleasure, the sounds of skin slapping and mattress squeaking no longer drowned out.

The adrenaline and ecstasy coursing through Kuroo wouldn’t let him slow the pace down to anything less than brutal, his mind tunneled on one thing and one thing only: getting off in the best way possible.

It wasn’t long before he felt Kageyama’s gasp hitch in his throat and his body twitch, hands grasping and pulling at the sheets till the corners snapped from the mattress and curled in. Kuroo pulled Kageyama from where he buried his face, having just enough mind left to kiss him as he came dry, eyes rolling back into his skull.

Kuroo wasn’t far behind, but Kageyama still groaned and gasped as Kuroo kept up the frenzied pace for a minute longer before finishing off inside him, filling him with a quiet gasp and biting his lip.

He let his head flop back and loosened his hold on Kageyama when it had passed, feeling the energy die down to something less hectic, even if the spark still lay quietly in his chest. Kageyama’s arms shook as he rose, holding himself up and above the other and trying to steady his breathing while Kuroo gently stroked his sides with his thumbs.

When they were both stable enough, Kuroo carefully pulled out and let the cum dribble down the backs of Kageyama’s thighs. And his eyes widened. He looked down the bed at the forgotten condom and groaned.

“Fuck, I am so sorry.”

“Huh?” Kageyama said, voice groggy. Kuroo nodded in the direction of the condom, still in its sealed wrapper. “Oh...”

“I mean, you have nothing to worry about from me, but that still...” Kuroo winced, “can’t be very comfortable.”

Kageyama lips pulled into a small, tired smile and he shrugged. “It’s okay. It’s not so bad.” In fact, with the right person, Kageyama kind of liked it. That, he wouldn’t admit out loud though. But the moment was fleeting, and not wanting to dirty up the sheets any more, he eased himself off Kuroo carefully. “I’ll just go clean up.”

He crawled off the bed gingerly and tested his legs on the floor. Everything _seemed_ fine, but when he actually put weight on his jelly legs, they buckled and he toppled to the floor with a quiet curse.

Kuroo couldn’t help but laugh.

“Alright,” he said, sliding out of bed and helping Kageyama back up on to it. He dragged over a towel for Kageyama to lie down on while he retreated to the bathroom to grab some wipes.

When he came back, Kageyama went to take them from him but Kuroo insisted he do it. It was the least he could do after getting too caught up to cover up.

They both went pink, albeit for different reasons; Kageyama for the embarrassment that was Kuroo cleaning the cum out of his ass; Kuroo for the guilt that was fucking Kageyama bare.

“Listen,” he began quietly, “if I forget again, feel free to just... remind me. Or smack me,” he added with a half-joking chuckle.

Kageyama returned the laugh with his own puff of air as Kuroo finished up and he could slide up the bed to rest his back against the wall, leaning to grab his boxers from the floor and slip them on. “It’s okay. It’s not like it’s the first time.”

Kuroo gave him a surprised look and he backtracked.

“I-I mean, it’s not like I have anything _either_ , it’s all... fine. There. In that... area.”

Kuroo laughed, slipping on his own boxers, mostly for Kageyama’s comfort, and grabbing his pack of cigarettes and a lighter off his window sill.

This time it was Kageyama’s turn to give him a look.

“Don’t tell Bo,” he said with a cigarette perched between his lips before the little flame of the lighter sparked to life. After taking a long drag and tapping the ashes into an empty mug on the sill, he asked, “Had a lot of ‘dates’ in the past?”

“Not really,” Kageyama shrugged, “I think I’ve been on, like, one official date. It was pretty lame. Neither of my exes were really into going out, though.”

Kuroo frowned. “Well, that doesn’t seem very fair to you.”

“It’s okay.” Kageyama picked at a string in the sheets, still mussed up from... earlier. “I was never really into that whole traditional dating scene anyway. Never really fit me.”

Kuroo felt his heart drop a bit at that, briefly considering proposing to take Kageyama on one before he was swiftly reminded that Kageyama wasn’t interested.

“Understandable.” He nodded, taking another long drag and letting the smoke billow around him. He waited another beat before opening the window.

“You and Bokuto never really seemed,” Kageyama shrugged, “into that kind of thing.”

Kuroo thought back to the brief time he and Bokuto tried to date in high school, and how miserable that had went. “No, not really. It didn’t work for us. Relationships like that – especially with friends – can get pretty complicated.”

Kageyama nodded thoughtfully, if only to mask the slight disappointment. Recovering from the indirect rejection weeks ago was proving to be harder and more drawn out than he initially thought – or hoped for.

“We tried in high school,” Kuroo went on, laughing a little at the memory, “and it was, uh. Certainly _something_.”

“Why, what do you mean?” Kageyama smiled, Kuroo’s wistful nostalgia infectious.

“Well,” Kuroo began, waving his hand with the cigarette around for emphasis, “we’d already known each other a while by then – since, like... middle school, I guess. And we were best friends and just thought we should try? But things didn’t even change that much between us. Except there was a lot more kissing and sex than before,” he laughed. “But it always felt... kind of off. Like it just wasn’t meant to be?”

“Did you guys, like... not love each other?”

“No, no, we did. It just wasn’t romantic, you know?” Kuroo took another drag from his cigarette before turning to tap the ashes into a mug, not quite meeting Kageyama’s eye but unable to help his loose lips. “It got pretty bad, actually. Don’t tell him I told you this, he’d probably think it was slander or something, but Bo ended up sobbing about how he didn’t love me like that.”

Kuroo watched the cigarette in his hand burn in uncomfortable silence, tapping it again before running a hand through his hair and continuing. “I had no idea he was dealing with all that stuff.”

“What do you mean?”

“Bokuto used to think he was... broken. Or something. ‘Cause he doesn’t really get romantic love. And I didn’t _know_ at the time that he was trying to force it in our relationship ‘cause he figured it’d work with us. But it still didn’t and it really got to him and I just...” He sighed. “I dunno. I wish I was a better friend, I guess.”

Kageyama scrunched his nose. “Why?”

“ ‘Cause I could’ve helped him?”

“Yeah, but,” Kageyama paused, searching for the right way to continue, “it’s not really your fault. You didn’t know, how could you? You shouldn’t beat yourself up over it when it was,” he waved his hand to make his point instead of finishing his sentence. “I’m sure Bokuto knows that, too. You’re a good friend, you would’ve helped if you could, I’m sure.”

Kuroo huffed out a little self-deprecating laugh, but he gave Kageyama a genuine smile. He didn’t know how they ended up on such a depressing topic or how Kageyama was playing his personal confidence booster, but it was... nice. Him trying to make Kuroo feel better and all.

Maybe it was because Kuroo was so good at hiding his true feelings and playing the cheerleader and advice giver for everyone else that it was nice to have someone do it for him, and for it to not be prompted. For it to come from a place of genuine care, and he could see it in the other’s eyes.

“Thanks, kid.” He smiled, and Kageyama gave him one back, accompanied with a small, endearingly awkward nod.

“So...” Kageyama began, trying to fill the empty space now and picking at the string in the sheets. “You’ve known Bokuto for a long time?” Kuroo nodded, inhaling the cigarette smoke. “How have you survived so long?”

Kuroo nearly choked, barking out a laugh. “It wasn’t easy.”

“Has he always been this way?” Kageyama asked, thumbing towards the door and Bokuto’s room.

“Oh yeah. He has _never_ slowed down.”

“I guess I can understand. My best friend’s kind of the same way, but I haven’t known him as long.”

“Oh, god, _two_ of them?” Kuroo laughed. “Never let them meet, the universe might implode from the sheer amount of energy in one tiny, contained space.”

Kageyama laughed, a sweet rarity that made Kuroo’s heart flutter and cheeks warm. Mesmerized, Kuroo didn’t notice the ashes drop from his cigarette and on to the bed, jumping back.

“Oh, shit.” He rushed to clean it up quick, hopping off the bed. “Bo’s gonna kill me.”

“Does he not like smoking..?”

Kuroo scoffed. “Absolutely not, says it’s disgusting. Funny, isn’t it?” Kageyama huffed a laugh – Bokuto was known for doing all kinds of drugs and weird sex things and being all around kind of disgusting, chugging whole jugs of milk or eating food that’s been out for days, but this is where he drew the line. “He found out in high school about a month after I picked it up and he scolded me _so_ bad. It was... surreal.”

As Kuroo relayed the story of Bokuto catching him smoking and pulling an uncanny Yaku impression, the two fell into a comfortable conversation, lounging in the bed and laughing at stories from both their eccentric best friends. Kuroo could count on one hand how many times he could’ve felt more comfortable than he did now, but none came to mind the more Kageyama laughed, burying his face in his hands or shoving Kuroo half-heartedly with his shoulder.

It felt natural and warm, like maybe all the problems that surrounded them both inside and outside their relationship could be laid to rest for the time being. That they could exist in the here and now, with each other, and not have to complicate things with heartache. For now, they could simultaneously enjoy their friendship and pretend it was something else.

It was especially easy when a comfortable silence stilled their conversation and Kuroo could inch his fingers across the small gap on the bed that separated his hand from Kageyama’s, when Kuroo gently take Kageyama’s chin and tilt his head for a kiss and not even be remotely questioned, to not have Kageyama’s smile fade.

If it turned heated and they found themselves messing up the sheets again with grasping hands and gasping breaths, then it was only natural. If Kuroo snuck his hand back into Kageyama’s boxers to turn his gasps into the tiny breathless whines and moans he lived for, then it was perfectly okay. And if the minutes stretched into what felt like hours and Kageyama didn’t come – a familiar and usual side effect for E – then they could just enjoy the closeness, the intimacy.

And when they couldn’t help but start grinning in the middle of a kiss and then dissolve into a fit of laughter, they could fall back into their sitting up positions against the wall and resume their conversation.

“So you thought that was a good disguise?” Kuroo asked, barely holding back a laugh.

Kageyama stuck his lower lip out. “It worked for the superheroes, why wouldn’t it work for me?”

“That’s a _movie_ , stupid shit like that always works.”

“I was in a hurry anyway, it’s not like I was planning it for months or something.”

“So you just _own_ a hat that says Hollywood on it.” Kuroo raised an eyebrow, looking back at the picture on Kageyama’s phone, lying on his side propped up on one arm.

“It was, like, four years ago, give me a break,” Kageyama mumbled, snatching his phone back, and Kuroo started laughing. “And it was a gift. I think. I don’t really remember _how_ I got it, but it was there so I used it, what was I going to do, buy another hat?”

“Have you ever even been to America?”

“No, I’ve never left Japan. You?”

“Yeah, I go to Brazil every few years when I can.”

Kageyama quirked his face. “Brazil... like, South America? Why there?”

Kuroo shrugged. “My mom’s from there, and I’ve got family there still.”

“What, she’s Brazilian?” Kageyama asked, sitting up straighter.

“Yeah,” Kuroo laughed, nodding.

“So, like, you are... too?”

Kuroo laughed again. Kageyama was simple-minded, but genuinely curious, which was kind of cute. It was not necessarily an unfamiliar reaction for Kuroo – many people knew right off the bat he wasn’t pure Japanese, and usually it was met with mild discomfort or awkwardness, but he’d learned to tell who people like that were and had no interest in interacting with them. “Yeah. Well, half.”

He watched as the gears in Kageyama’s head turned and he slowly noticed. Kuroo _was_ much darker than most people, but even he found he was darker than a lot of his friends so he never really thought about it too hard. And his hair _was_ very thick and curly, but so were a lot of other people’s. Kageyama just wasn’t very observant, truth be told, but he found it interesting and he wanted to know more. He’d lived a sheltered life in a small town, and here Kuroo was, having family in far off countries and a second home half way across the world. He thought it was pretty... “Cool,” he said, relaxing again. “How did your parents meet then?”

“My dad was stationed over there or something,” Kuroo shrugged. “The details of why were never really that clear, but my mom _loves_ to go on about the night they met and how _swooping_ and _romantic_ it is and stuff like that. She tells it much better than I could. Apparently it happened pretty fast, though. Got married in I think it was... two months? Moved to Japan, and eight months later I came around.”

Kageyama nodded. “What’s it like there?”

Kuroo grinned. “Warm.” He meant it in the literal, temperature sense, but thinking about it and his family and all his times there made a warmth spread in his chest. “The beaches are nice – nice enough I actually look forward to going to, since I’m not really a fan of the beach. I guess I’m kind of a different person there. And my family – especially my aunts and cousins – are really funny. They’re good people. Oh, and the _food_. If it weren’t for my mom, I’d probably go through withdrawal, I can never quite get the food right.”

“It’s good?”

“Oh, yeah. Well, at least to me, yeah. I think it’s more my aunt’s cooking, though.” He leaned in a bit. “Don’t tell my mom, but she can’t even hold a candle to my aunt.”

Kageyama smiled, but all the talk of food was interrupted by his stomach growling loudly and obnoxiously.

Kuroo laughed. “Hungry?”

Kageyama tried to think of the last time he ate. Did he even have dinner? He was losing track of his eating schedule lately, something completely new to the otherwise glutton. He was just busy, but now that he tried to remember, he found he could barely remember what happened before he went out with the others – living too much in the moment, he guessed.

And at this moment, he was starving.

“I can order us something,” Kuroo said, stretching to reach a pile of flyers on the floor next to his bed and pulled up one for a local pizza place. Checking the time and seeing they were still open, he dialed them up to order.

Kageyama watched quietly. It was nearing 3 in the morning by now, but he was still wide awake. Although he usually was at this time, he didn’t feel rundown at the very least, but comfortable and energized. Maybe it was the MDMA – how long did that stuff last anyway? – or maybe it was just how he felt around Kuroo.

It was kind of funny to him, he thought when Kuroo turned to give him a smile while on the phone. After getting over that awkward hump, they settled into something comfortable – when he wasn’t getting a great sleep with Kuroo, then he was lively and confident and adventurous. If someone had told him months ago that he’d have a group of friends and go out every weekend to party, he would’ve told them they were out of their mind, but this was Kageyama’s reality now. He felt welcome, and although everyone in the group made sure of this, he really felt Kuroo went above and beyond, and that somehow, someway, it wasn’t an inconvenience to him. He just genuinely wanted Kageyama to feel at home.

“Alright,” Kuroo said, hanging up and relaxing back in the bed, “it’ll be about forty minutes.”

“Okay,” Kageyama nodded. Despite everything that had happened tonight and over the last few weeks, he still felt a blush creep up his neck when he caught Kuroo staring. “What do you want to do?”

All it really took was one shared look of knowing, the fact that every touch was still electrifying, and five minutes before they found themselves a tangle of limbs and sheets again. Underwear was shed, again, and Kuroo was settling in between Kageyama’s spread legs, _again_. Not much prep was needed this time around, so it really wasn’t long before Kuroo was seated deep inside the other and kissing down his neck.

This time, they took it a little slower and a little deeper, having fully satiated the frenzied need to fuck earlier that night and allowing themselves to indulge in something a bit more meaningful, getting caught up in each other.

Kuroo moved deep and slow, drawing a long, drawn out moan from Kageyama that set his nerves on fire and a shiver to run up his spine. It was enough to lose himself in, arching his back and hissing quietly when Kageyama raked his blunt nails down his broad back on another deep thrust.

Caging Kageyama in between his arms and resting his sweaty forehead against the other’s, he picked up the pace _ever_ so slightly. Kageyama’s breath hiccupped and quickened, and although senses were heightened, their orgasms were far off the shore.

It felt like no time at all had passed by the time Kuroo’s phone interrupted them loudly, buzzing raucously on the bed side table. Kuroo slumped, huffing out a little laugh to which Kageyama returned.

“They weren’t kidding about forty minutes or less, huh?”

“Go,” Kageyama said, pushing him off. “I’m hungry.” The corner of his mouth pulled into a little playful smirk, catching Kuroo off guard.

Maybe he was rubbing off on the kid.

He slipped out of Kageyama and into his boxers and pants again, not bothering to put on a shirt before he headed downstairs and returned with the much welcomed pizza. So welcomed, in fact, he thought Kageyama was more glad to see it than him. He took no offense, though, as Kageyama happily dug into it, minding the stringy cheese to not let it fall on the increasingly sullied sheets.

They ate and talked until the wee hours of the morning, the sun just peeking up over the horizon.

Kuroo talked more about his family, of which Kageyama seemed eager to learn more of. Kageyama made an off-handed comment about his own, tiny family – he was an only child and had no cousins – and Kuroo thought it was... kind of sad. The kid already seemed to be kind of lonely, and he knew about his parent situation; he couldn’t imagine not having a close-knit family.

Kageyama spoke of his last two relationships, shrugging off any concern Kuroo may have thrown his way. They weren’t exactly the worst boyfriends he’d heard of, but it saddened and even angered him a bit because he knew Kageyama deserved _so much more_ and that he’d be more than willing to give it all to him.

If only he was interested.

He changed the subject quickly.

They found out more about each other in the one night together, letting everything but their feelings for each other spill out. It was hard, though. It was hard for Kageyama when Kuroo’d smile so big and unhindered, allowing his dimples to show, that he just stuffed as much pizza in his craw as possible to not accidentally let it slip how much he liked Kuroo. It was hard for Kuroo when he’d make a cheesy little joke and somehow get Kageyama to crack a smile and shove him away with faux annoyance.

When the pizza was finished and conversations were exhausted, Kuroo moved in for one more go at it, Kageyama’s heart fluttering. He tried not to dwell too much on their confusing (lack of a) relationship and indulged himself in the fantasy that the whole night meant as much to Kuroo as it did to him. He felt like they’d really bonded tonight, not just through sex, but also through their deep conversations.

They cleaned up after both getting to finish and settled in for a long sleep when the sun was just waking up. Kageyama was thankful nothing was said when he made himself comfortable in Kuroo’s bed alongside him, and closed his eyes, pretending he wasn’t just lying next to a friend for once.

Unaware Kuroo was doing the same thing on the other side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always comments are MUCH appreciated especially now since i had such a long break in between chapters i basically just wanna know people are still here and interested in this fic ;u;
> 
> more songs are being added to the playlist too!!
> 
> also pls subscribe if u can and want to know when this updates cause honestly im all over the place thanks


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> geez im so sorry this is so late  
> just the usual excuses: life, school (for a bit), depression, writers blocks, etc etc  
> also i picked up writing commissions AND a little bit of script work over the summer so that's even more!!  
> BUT HERE I AM  
> and i bring to you 30 pages. That's right.
> 
> song suggestions for this chapter:  
> warm by sg lewis  
> grandloves by purity ring  
> i'm god by clams casino  
> ALL can be found in that playlist in the notes at the end!!
> 
> also, if it wasn't clear already (or if you just don't know me or my other works), kageyama is autistic and kuroo's got some mad anxiety he deals with. Neither are SUPER important to the plot, but this is how theyre written so there ya go
> 
> drug warning for this chapter: cocaine and mdma

“So then this guy screams at me like ‘Aaaah!’ and I start screaming back like ‘Uwaaah!’ and he _yells out_ ‘Why are there giant rats here?!’ which just made me mad.”

Kageyama drummed his fingers against the top of the table, half-listening to Hinata recount the story of how he met his roommate to a very attentive Yachi and a very inattentive Tsukishima. Kageyama’d heard it all before in excruciating detail, so he’d sort of zoned out and took the opportunity to people-watch a bit.

It was pretty packed in the little coffee shop his friends had forced him to meet at on a Sunday morning, and especially since this was one of the trendier places in the city, there were a lot of idle conversations he caught snippets of. Crazy jobs, overwhelming schoolwork, broken relationships, new hookups. He blushed a little at the last one, a flash of his memory the night before, and sat up straight, tuning back into the conversation and distracting himself by playing with the half-empty paper coffee cup cooling between his hands.

 “Zoning out?” Tsukishima asked, voice dripping with sarcasm and self satisfaction, reveling in the glare Kageyama shot his way. “That’s not really the way to treat old friends.”

He wasn’t exactly on bad terms with Tsukishima anymore – they both mellowed out over their high school careers – but he still wasn’t a huge fan, nor Tsukishima of him. They were friends by proxy, not of their own volition, so having to sit across the table and act civil was sometimes... more than either of them could really handle, nipping at each other’s ankles with biting comments. Tsukishima, unfortunately, had a lot more couth in this matter than Kageyama did. Or at least, that’s what their friends thought.

“I’ve heard this story,” Kageyama mumbled, readjusting himself in his seat.

“Or is it just that you’ve found newer, better _friends_?” Tsukishima perched that shit eating grin in his hand, elbow on the table, twirling his own cooling coffee around on its base with his other hand.

“What? No...”

“Oh and those-“ Tsukishima gestured with a swish of one finger around Kageyama’s throat, “were just left by, what, the hickey fairy?”

Kageyama’s face grew hotter than his lukewarm coffee, quickly adverting his eyes and trying to raise his collar. He thought they were low enough to go undetected, but leave it to the biggest pain in his ass to look for something to tease him about.

Hinata practically leapt across the table with a shout, leaning as far across the table propped up on his hands as the small booth would allow. “What!? What, did you get a boyfriend?!”

Yachi – poor, sweet Yachi – was stuck next to Kageyama and looking around the shop in embarrassment, holding up her hands to quell the situation. “Hinata, please keep it d-”

“And you didn’t _tell me?!_ ”

“He’s...!” Kageyama could feel his own embarrassment rise and snap, coming out more as thinly veiled anger before he caught himself and reeled it back, hunching in on himself a bit and refusing to meet anyone’s eyes. “He’s just a friend.”

“Oooh,” Tsukishima couldn’t help but chuckle, “just a _friend_? That’s pretty daring for Mr. Boring.”

“I’m not-!”

“Who is it?!” Hinata piped up.

“Is he really a friend or are you just trying to sound less boring?” Tsukishima chimed in.

“Kuroo’s a _fr_ -”

“Oh, he’s got a _name_ now.” Tsukishima found the whole situation and Kageyama’s reddening face _far_ too amusing.

Yachi nervously laughed. “Guys, please, we’re in public.”

Tsukishima ignored her. “You fucked him yet?”

“Holy shit, is this him?!” Kageyama’s head was spinning from everything moving so fast and his increasing embarrassment that he didn’t notice Hinata pull out his phone and start showing it to the table.

“Oh, he’s handsome.” Yachi seemed to have abandoned trying to control the situation or help Kageyama in favor of gawking at the very real social media Hinata had pulled up that was very much Kuroo.

Tsukishima laughed. “How the hell did you get someone like _him_?”

“I don’t-!” Kageyama realized he was shouting and quickly looked around the coffee shop, sinking lower in his seat. “I don’t _have_ him, I told you; he’s a friend.”

“A friend that you’re sleeping with.”

Hinata whistled low, swiping through his phone. “A pretty hot friend...”

“Yeah,” Tsukishima chuckled. “Way out of your league.”

“Is this really the right guy?” Hinata quirked his face, showing Kageyama the phone again. He nodded, despite how hot his face felt – whether it be from embarrassment or anger, he didn’t know.

“Is he, like, stupid? Find him in your remedial classes?”

“Oh! Is he really into volleyball? Is he on the team with you?”

“Oh shit, am I gonna face him soon? What position does he play? Also, how tall is he?”

Kageyama fell silent now, picking at his paper coffee cup while his friends gawked at Hinata’s phone and debated in what horrible way could Kuroo possibly relate to him. How there had to be something inherently _wrong_ with Kuroo to show any interest in Kageyama.

And you know what? They were right.

Kageyama certainly did not have the highest opinion of himself, nor did his friends and family, but it’s not like any of this was baseless. Kageyama knew what he was like – how he acted, how he spoke, how he looked. Things like grades and achievements and _especially_ his exes was enough to tell people what he was like, and what kind of people would take an interest in him.

It’s not like his exes were particularly _bad_ , but neither of them wanted to go out with Kageyama on any official dates and it left Kageyama feeling a little... empty. He convinced himself that that’s just how things were, that the nature of his relationships called for a little extra privacy and to remain semi-detached.

It was something he was forced to swallow down and deal with, not let bother him, just like so many other things.

Just like the insults his friends casually threw around that he _knew_ were not said with any malicious intent.

Instead, he just buried the self-doubt that they spoke to, that it was true there was absolutely _no_ reason for Kuroo to take an interest in him and that’s probably why he _didn’t_ and they just remained friends with a little bonus action on the side. He’d bury that and never let it fully emerge.

At least, not until it was 4 in the morning and he was in his room alone, left to stare blankly at the ceiling in a desperate attempt to sleep. Instead, the last few days sloshed around in his head in nauseating waves; the conversation with his friends this morning, getting really high and sleeping with Kuroo... again, feeling so run-down and overwhelmed he wanted to just crash all the time... not to mention the little heart-to-heart with Kuroo that made him burn with embarrassment now looking back on it.

It was no wonder Kuroo wanted as little involvement with him as possible, he was an _embarrassment_. A disappointment. A flat-out failure.

Kageyama pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, gritting his teeth in frustration. He couldn’t dwell on this any further, and, since he couldn’t sleep anyway, he shot up from his bed and quickly threw on shoes, heading out for just a quick 4am run in a city that never sleeps.

But that “quick” 4am run turned into a long one, his feet carrying him into unknown areas. Luckily, he didn’t get lost, and found himself winding back around to the campus sometime after 7 in the morning, an ungodly hour where students dragged themselves in early before classes started or the sun had even just barely touched the sidewalk.

It was there he spotted a familiar face, looking a little too awake when the rest of this age bracket could barely comprehend the time.

“Hey,” Yaku greeted when Kageyama came over to greet him, “you’re up early. Class?”

Kageyama shook his head. “Run.”

“Ah.” Yaku nodded in understanding. “You’re really dedicated, aren’t you?”

Kageyama shrugged, deciding not to let Yaku on to the fact he wasn’t so much out _early_ as he was still out _extremely late_. Instead, he just rubbed the sleep from his eye with one hand, stuffing the other in his sweater pocket.

Yaku eyed him up and down. “You... got class soon?”

“I...” Kageyama tried to remember his class schedule but his head was too foggy at this hour. “Don’t... think so?”

Yaku nodded in thought before sighing heavily. “Kageyama. Go home.”

“...What?”

Yaku raised an eyebrow skeptically. “You didn’t sleep last night, did you?” Kageyama just stared at him and he sighed again. “Look, you’re barely even present right now, you look like you got run over on the way here...  just go home. You can afford to miss one class for your health.”

Kageyama wasn’t going to fight him on this. There was no point. He didn’t even _want_ to go to class; no, the thing that brought him down the most is the fact that Yaku – a bit of a stickler for the rules and remaining on top of all academic responsibilities – was telling him to skip class ‘cause he looked like he got hit by a freight train.

Yaku saw him off to the subway and Kageyama had to fight his growing exhaustion until he was back up in his dorm, but despite his insatiable want and _need_ for sleep, the moment he hit the bed, it did not come to him.

He’d gone out for a run for the sole purpose of clearing his head and then maybe being able to sleep, and he was failing at both. His tired mind ran through the last few nights and how foolish he’d been acting; how now he was in far too deep with Kuroo to back out now, no matter how his chest ached whenever he thought about the truth of their relationship; how he hadn’t felt anything _but_ bone-tired, save for when he was getting a little _help_.

It made him remember his conversation with Bokuto, about how even he needed a little help once in a while to beat the sluggish feeling or get over a difficult hump, and he refused to admit how it appealed to him.

But still, in the back of his mind, he heard Kuroo reminding him that Bokuto always crashed after, remembered how worried Kuroo looked whenever he talked about Bokuto’s dependency on speed once in a blue moon.

He really didn’t want to be the cause of that expression.

At some point during his tired thought process, his mind drifted off to sleep, thinking about Kuroo’s face.

And somehow, that made him rest easier.

 

 

 

It was invigorating playing volleyball on days off. During practices, Kageyama pushed himself to his absolute limit in order to improve and impress, to chase that starting position just out of his reach, but when the gang got together and found a section of the gym available, he could play with them for the reason he started playing in the first place. Fun.

Here there was no competition over a starting position. In fact, they didn’t even have enough for full teams. They barely had enough for just _one_ team. And since there was no competitiveness and stress over positions and skill and scholarships, he could be get competitive about... just the game.

And as laidback as this group was about most things, they could get surprisingly competitive over a small volleyball game between friends.

It shocked Kageyama back to life, like he hadn’t spent the day skipping class to sleep 18 hours.

And when they were all bone tired and collapsed in a haphazard circle, the elation had not yet left him. They just fell into conversation, rolling the ball back and forth, and though Kageyama didn’t contribute much to the banter (not wanting to throw a wrench into their well-oiled machine), it did provide a well-deserved distraction.

His cheeks hurt from smiling and laughing so openly.

And, if no one else noticed, Kuroo did. His heart leapt and stomach somersaulted when Kageyama’s grin grew bright and big, his laugh loud and uninhibited. Something so warm – and especially from normally such a quiet and stormy person – should never be hidden. Even if it turned his guts into the Olympic gymnastic team.

“So!” Bokuto clapped his hands together, loud and echoing off the gym walls. “This weekend. Sasaki’s throwing a house party. Who’s in?” Matsukawa and Hanamaki lazily rose their hands, followed by Akaashi and Yaku, sighing heavily. Kageyama raised his fingers, arms wrapped around his knees pulled to his chest when he noticed Kuroo’s arm still down by his side, the other propping him up.

“What? Why nooooot?!” Bokuto whined, nudging Kuroo’s leg with his foot incessantly.

“Because,” Kuroo nudged him back before moving far enough out of his reach, “it’s on Friday isn’t it. She told me about it, I can’t go. I have work.”

Kageyama ignored his stomach dropping a little.

“So? Don’t you only work ‘till, like, 1 on Fridays?”

Kuroo raised an eyebrow. “Yeah...?”

“So come after!” Bokuto said, and Kageyama allowed himself to maybe hope for a moment. “You know Sasaki only does it _once_ a year, do you really wanna miss out on it?”

Kuroo sighed. Maybe all the jokes about him being an old man were right, ‘cause he was not up for a house party after work on a Friday night. He’d be up for one beer, crashing on the couch in his boxers, and falling asleep to late night game shows.

But he _also_ noticed Kageyama agree to go, and he’d _rather_ spend his night by his side. And who knows, there are always quiet corners he can move to with the other and maybe just talk, enjoy each other’s company... make out a little, who knows! He will expect nothing. He just wasn’t going to make Kageyama go alone.

Even if the others would be there.

“Alright,” he said, addressing Bokuto but kept his eyes locked on Kageyama. “I’ll try to make it.”

He couldn’t fight the smile when he saw Kageyama’s shoulders relax and his mouth quirk on one side.

He’ll definitely make it.

 

 

 

“So, a molecule is a group of two or more atoms bound together by... chemical bonds?”

“Right.”

“And molecules are just made up of atoms.”

“Correct.”

“And the atomic particles are protons, neutrons and... electrons.”

“Yes.”

Kageyama shuffled through his note cards – organized and provided by Kuroo, each with a handy picture on the back for him to more easily visualize. They’d spent all of the morning and afternoon studying for Kageyama’s test, right up until Kuroo walked him to his class, where they now stood amongst a gaggle of other students, surely muttering the same basic chemistry facts.

Kageyama really hated chemistry. Always bad at it. But it was a required course under his general degree, and he had to get a decent grade on the loathsome subject.

“Hey,” Kuroo began. Kageyama sighed heavily, letting his hands fall by his sides. He was really stressed. “You’ve got this.”

“Yeah, we’ll see,” he mumbled.

“Well, you won’t with that attitude.” Kageyama rolled his eyes. “Just don’t worry, you did fine when I quizzed you. Go in there, crush it, then later, party.”

Like Kageyama could even think about that right now.

The doors opened and the students began to file in, like cows to slaughter. Kageyama did _not_ feel prepared.

The dread radiated off him, thick and heavy, when he felt a hand rest on his head. Kuroo smiled, reassuring and warm. “You got this.”

Kageyama nodded, feeling the tension ease a bit from his shoulders. “See you later?”

“Yeah, for sure. We can celebrate you acing the test.” He grinned, nudging Kageyama with his elbow until he could manage at least a quirk of the other’s lips.

His heart squeezed at the thought of pressing a good luck kiss to those lips, but instead he watched the other give one last look before going into the class.

After the doors shut and he was left alone outside, Kuroo lingered a minute longer before he had to leave and get ready for work, a moment longer to get that idea out of his head.

He’d be late if he waited that long.

And while Kuroo was swallowing down his feelings, Kageyama was swallowing down his lunch that was threatening to make a second appearance while the professor handed out the test papers row by row.

But Kuroo believed in him; he should, since he was the one that tutored Kageyama, but still that gave him that little extra nudge to turn over the paper when it was time and read the questions carefully. And to his surprise, he knew the answers to some right off the bat, and the others he felt good about guessing, and by the time he’d flown through all the questions, it hadn’t even been the end of the period.

For once, Kageyama had time to review and _still_ leave early, feeling confident and relieved. The second he was out and breathing the fresh air of freedom, he shot Kuroo a quick text letting him know it went well and made his way out, head held high.

He was knocked back down a bit when a heavy arm fell around his shoulders and two bodies pressed against him on either side. The terrible twosome.

“Hey there, moonchild, how are you on this fine evening?” Matsukawa said, a lilt to his voice and his grin.

Kageyama shrugged them off. “Food and then home, probably.”

“Going tonight?” Hanamaki chimed in.

“Umm, yeah? I guess.”

“Good, you can tag along with us.” Matsukawa wrapped an arm again around Kageyama to squeeze him close and sighed wistfully, like an oddly nostalgic father. Kageyama pushed him off again.

“We can grab some grub on the way, pop over to your place so you can...” Hanamaki looked Kageyama up and down once, “change, make a pit stop at our place then go. How’s that?”

Kageyama frowned. “I can just meet you there, it’s no big deal.”

“And deprive you of our presence?”

“And let Kuroo down?” They spoke simultaneously, words jumbled it took Kageyama an extra second to process.

“What?”

“When Kuroo’s not around we like to consider ourselves your substitute dads,” Matsukawa said.

“Since when is Kuroo my dad.”

Hanamaki slapped the back of Matsukawa’s head lightly, getting the other to look over Kageyama’s head. “That’s not Kuroo’s thing.”

“Your right, it’s more Bokuto’s.”

“Either way,” Hanamaki turned back to Kageyama, “how else are you going to get there?”

“Bus...?”

“Sasaki doesn’t live on an easy bus route.”

“So how are you getting there.”

“Akaashi’s gonna swing by in his mom van probably.”

Kageyama sighed. “Fine.” He still didn’t understand what any of this had to do with Kuroo and why they’d even bother mentioning him, but before he could consider (and be grossed out by the whole dad comment), his surrogate... companions whisked him off.

Shoved into a crowd, packed in a subway car, then another, and on more, back out on the platform, and out into the open where he could breathe easily again.

“C’mon, we can get DomDom on the way back to your place, then we can hop on a bus back home. Sounds good?” Kageyama nodded and Matsukawa pat him on the back, ushering him down the side street littered with shops and cafes.

They stopped off at a burger place, Kageyama got something normal and feared whatever Matsukawa specially ordered, reminding himself not to question it; they took a short walk through some back streets and ended up at Kageyama’s building, where his two... house guests made themselves comfortable by making Kageyama _un_ comfortable, trying to pick out what he should wear (he compromised on the jeans, but refused to cut off the sleeves and bottom half of one of his shirts); caught a bus and listened to them idly make chitchat with an elderly lady with far too many groceries; and, eventually, slogged himself to their place.

Kageyama wasn’t very close with either of them, so it was both disturbing and mesmerizing to get a chance to watch and interact with them alone. There were still a couple hours before they wanted to show up, so he got the chance to observe, and, luckily, his presence went well enough unknown as the two went about they’re, uh... _routine_.

This “routine” involved finding the _perfect_ music to play – hardcore medieval party mix – for about fifteen minutes, finding the right outfit – which involved a lot of tossing clothes back and forth – and, of course, pot.

It was _fascinating._

However, by the time Akaashi arrived in the so-called “mom van”, he was happy to have the others around, though crawling in the backseat only made him fade into the background again.

Gave him another chance to just watch quietly, though. Bokuto in the front seat, trying his absolute hardest to turn around completely so he could be a part of the conversation in the back, Matsukawa reaching for the auxiliary cord in the front and Akaashi swatting his hand away, Hanamaki fiddling with Yaku’s hair and Yaku protecting his head like he was being attacked.

They were all so... _close._ They’d been friends for years, some even since high school or further, who knows, and he was, what? A few months in? Not to mention with his awkward social tendencies, he’d be further behind any normal person at this stage anyway. At this rate he’d fade into obscurity, long forgotten while the others moved on as a collective group.

He wouldn’t be surprised if they failed to remember he existed and left him in the back.

Luckily, he was proven wrong when they parked down the street and Hanamaki laid a hand on his shoulder, patting him as they all filed out of the minivan.

Kageyama still shuffled to the back of their group, trailing behind like the tagalong he was. If he’d attempted to move up, walk next to someone, try to be a part of the group, he’d be forced to walk in the street or be pushed back again, so it was easier this way to just relegate himself to the back right off the bat.

It didn’t take long before he heard the distant thump of the bass and cars lined up along the street. There were a few stragglers out in the front, keeping mostly to themselves in order to not annoy the neighbourhood more than they already were, just drinking or smoking, idly talking.

Matsukawa waved at a couple and earned a nod in return, while Akaashi stopped to actually talk with a smoker, waving the rest of them off. When they opened the door, a wave of sweaty heat and loud bass hit Kageyama and made him recoil a second.

The gang pushed their way in; the house was a little crowded, but still had enough room to navigate yourself room to room. They made their way to the corner of the living room, where the furniture had been pushed to make more room to stand.

“Hey!” Bokuto shouted, still louder than the music that seemed to drown out thought. A tall girl shot up from the couch and hugged him, waving and greeting the others. Kageyama just kept to himself.

She shooed off some people from the couches, and he was pushed into one of the seat cushions, squashed between Matsukawa and Bokuto.

“Hey,” Hanamaki got up, “want me to get you anything, babe?” Matsukawa nodded, and it seemed that was all that he needed. He nodded in Kageyama’s direction. “How ‘bout you?”

“Uh, sure. Yeah. See if they have an-”

Hanamaki cut him off. “I’ll surprise you.” And took off into the crowd in search for booze.

It was... awkward, to say the least. Sitting in a stranger’s house, at a party, being more or less ignored, and on top of it all not having a drink in his hand. Besides the fact that alcohol made him more comfortable, more loosey-goosey, more... social, it also just gave him something to hold, something to do. Made him feel less out of place.

The others continued to catch up with the host while he looked around, never lingering on anyone in particular. Maybe he could leave. Say his stomach hurt or he had a test he forgot about or was just dead tired. No, tired probably would only get one of them – most likely Matsukawa or Bokuto – to offer him a little “pick me up”.

Actually, was that even such a bad idea? It did make Kageyama feel better for a bit, tired him out, and made him _so_ much more social and fun. People would like him, talk to him.

No, that was definitely a bad idea. He killed that thought before he could dwell on it and get attached to the idea.

Hanamaki’d finally came back with three drinks, passing Matsukawa and Kageyama theirs in one hand and flopping in his seat again. Kageyama nodded his thanks, but was quickly forgotten again as the inseparable couple got to talking about something from earlier that day, some class or subject or something Kageyama just couldn’t comprehend or care less about. It wasn’t a conversation he was invited into anyway.

But now he had that drink! Had his hands full... could take a sip and look like he was doing something... maybe bop his head or jiggle his leg _incessantly_ to the music. Look, y’know. Normal.

“Hey!” Matsukawa yelled over the music, startling Kageyama out of his fake normalcy, but it wasn’t him he was addressing. He waved someone over, a tall, lanky man with dark hair. He looked to be around the same age as the rest of the group. He came over, a lopsided smile on his face and hands in his pocket.

“Hey, Issei.” He nodded in his direction. “Takahiro.” Nodded at Hanamaki.

Bokuto shot up and hugged the man with enough force to make them nearly stumble. “Ritsu! Hey man, didn’t know you’d be here!”

The man – Ritsu – shrugged. “I found myself in the area, may as well stop by.”

“How have things been?” Hanamaki asked.

“Good, good. Business’ been great, especially on nights like tonight.” He laughed.

“Oh yeah?” Bokuto said. “Got anything good for us tonight?”

“Yeah,” Ritsu said, a lilt to his voice and smile, “I can hook you up with something.” It was then that he turned his eyes on Kageyama, who’d been quietly listening to the conversation. “Who’s this?”

Kageyama’s cheeks burned, suddenly embarrassed and feeling even _more_ out of place at the party and in the group.

“Oh, right!” Bokuto clapped his hands together. “You haven’t met Kageyama yet.”

“Kageyama?” Ritsu quirked his face. “Huh. Isn’t that Kuroo’s new thing?”

Kageyama thought his face was on fire. Matsukawa noticed, eyeing the other for a second before languidly resting his arm around his shoulders. “He’s a friend.”

Ritsu nodded, eyes fixed on him. “Right, gotcha.” He shrugged. “Makes sense. Welcome to the club, kid.”

“Thanks,” Kageyama mumbled, already lifting his drink to his lips to dispel his embarrassment.

“So,” Bokuto began, “you got anything good tonight?”

“Oh, right, yeah.” Ritsu reached into the pocket of his sweater. “I figured you’d be here tonight; got this from my guy.” The two of them turned away and spoke close and hushed. Kageyama tried to not eavesdrop, and although he couldn’t _hear_ he did watch out of the corner of his eye, especially when Bokuto exclaimed. He guessed whatever it was, it was good.

Ritsu said goodbye to everyone and disappeared and Bokuto rejoined, a spring in his step as he hopped back into his seat, bursting with excitement, but not details. He waited with a jiggling leg, making light conversation with some of the others hanging around the seating area – including the host – until they all started to filter out, for drinks, dancing, or disappearing into the shadows.

That’s when Bokuto whipped his head around to the others on the couch, startling Kageyama. “Guess. What I. Got.”

The other two they shared the couch with looked casual and even borderline bored. “Special K?” Hanamaki asked.

“Blow,” Matsukawa stated.

Bokuto jabbed his finger in his direction. “Bingo!”

Hanamaki sighed wistfully. “Been a while.”

Kageyama tried to look like he knew what was going on in order to avoid any further embarrassment. He was at his limit as is.

“I’ll pass tonight.” Matsukawa leaned back, taking a big gulp of his drink and ignoring the wide eyed look from Bokuto and the ensuing whine.

“What? Why?!”

He shrugged.

“Makki?”

He mimicked his partner with his own shrug of the shoulders. “I’m down for a bump.”

That made Bokuto’s grin return in full force, then he turned to Kageyama. “How ‘bout you?”

Kageyama mulled it over in his head. On one hand, he was an awkward, nervous stick-in-the-mud at this party; he didn’t know anyone other than the few people he came with, people who were _far_ more socially adept than he and easily could mingle with the gaggles of other college students and leave him in the dust. He’d also did really well on that test, and whether he wanted to admit it or not, the idea of just getting a _little_ high and cutting loose for the night was... beyond desirable.

On the other hand, he could easily make a fool of himself in front of all these people _he didn’t know_ ; Kuroo wasn’t here and that cut down any fun he’d have by a frighteningly large percentage; and he _did_ have practice the next morning.

But like Pavlov’s dog, the reward of being social and confident and having absolutely the _best_ time was so strong it had his chest balloon with anticipation.

But...

“M...maybe later.”

Bokuto pouted. “What, why not?”

“Leave the kid alone.” Yaku butted in, breaking off from his conversation with others to wedge himself between Kageyama and his sulking friend.

“No fun,” Bokuto mumbled.

That struck Kageyama like a dagger to the chest. _No fun_. Bokuto wasn’t a malicious person and meant nothing by it but _no fun_ , Kageyama was no fun and a drag to have around. Friends drop friends for being _no fun_ , people talk behind your back for being _no fun_.

It may not have bothered Kageyama as much as it did now if he didn’t know there was an expiry date on his worth in this group. And being _no fun_ could jeopardize that.

All of this only made him _more_ tense and awkward, especially as the minutes passed and Bokuto began to prep the, uh, _cocaine_ in two neat little lines on the already filthy glass table, moving aside empty and forgotten plastic cups.

He watched, stiff, hands balled tight on his knees as his friends – though as the awkward seconds ticked by, he felt that was less and less true – snorted the lines.

He just felt so... out of place. What was he even doing here? It’s not like _he_ was invited, he just kind of tagged along, and the people he tagged along with were probably becoming increasingly tired of him being such a thorn in their sides and spoiling all their fun.

He felt sick, dizzy, a little shaky. He shot up and mumbled an excuse about going to the bathroom, not waiting around for any kind of acknowledgement, if he even got one.

He found a powder room on the first floor, thankfully unoccupied and closed the door behind himself. He leaned over the sink, breath heavier than he would’ve liked, feeling like he was burning up from his core and skin cold and clammy.

He felt a whirlwind of panic rise in his chest, and he turned on the tap to cup water in his hands and scrub his face, trying to regain control of his situation or his emotions or his thoughts or just his breathing, for the love of _God_.

He met his reflection’s eyes in the mirror over the sink for a brief second before looking away, hanging his head and sighing deeply.

He’d watch his social, confident friends get up and mingle, get drinks, laugh and dance and just enjoy their time and place in life and never really _doubt_ themselves, meanwhile he’d stew in his awkward, intense cloud of over-thinking and jealousy.

He so desperately wanted to be a social butterfly like Bokuto or laidback like Matsukawa or friendly like Yaku. He wanted to be someone that didn’t feel perpetually listless, to not have to worry every second of every day whether he was going to be enough for his friends or enough for his team or enough for his dad.

At that moment, he wanted to be anybody but himself.

The door opened suddenly, startling him into standing up straight and backing away from the sink, like he was going to be caught doing something bad, but rather than a stranger or the host walking in, Bokuto poked his head in.

“There you are! Thought you ran off somewhere,” he said, letting himself in and closing the door and muffling the crowd and the music again. “What’s up?” His face went serious. “Had to take a dump?”

“Wh-no.” Kageyama shook his head. “No, nothing like that.”

“You good?”

Kageyama nodded, biting his tongue.

“I mean, if you’re not that kinda sucks. It’s a party, you should be having fun, right?”

Kageyama didn’t reply, just kind of stared at Bokuto blankly, which only earned him an exasperated sigh and Bokuto tsking and shaking his head. He pulled Kageyama close with an arm around his shoulders, shaking him gently.

“Whatever’s eating you, it’s time to just... leave all that shit behind. We’re gonna pump you up a bit, get you to let loose.” Even though Kageyama was just wishing for a way to do all this and so much more, he was still a little apprehensive about actually _doing_ it. Especially when Bokuto pulled out a dime bag of a pure white powder and put it in Kageyama’s hand with a reassuring pat and a grin.

“Don’t worry, it’ll be good! Plus, I’m here, the guys are here, freaking Yaku’s here, like anything could go wrong with him around.” He rolled his eyes. “You’ll be fine, and you’ll actually be able to have fun, so... y’know.”

He had a point; everyone was there tonight, he could have fun and stay safe. Of course, the most important person wasn’t there... but that’s something he could forget about once he let loose a little. He couldn’t rely on Kuroo forever.

 

 

 

Kuroo heaved a deep sigh, closing up the bar for the night after he _finally_ got the last patrons to leave. He rubbed his neck and rolled his shoulders. He wasn’t much in the mood for a big party tonight, but he’d already promised he’d go. Normally, if it were just his friends, he’d cancel, but he could never let down the hopeful look Kageyama’d given him, so he was hoping on the train and heading over.

Who knows, maybe he could show up for a bit, rescue Kageyama and take him back for a quiet night in. Order some late night takeout, put on a movie, and he even allowed himself to hope for a _little_ making out. Okay, maybe a lot, but he didn’t want to get his hopes up.

Though it was late, he could still hear the party as lively as ever as he neared the house. He took another moment collecting himself while finishing his cigarette, letting it calm his nerves and ease his exhaustion before venturing inside.

It was still fairly crowded, though the masses had long since gone hazy with alcohol or drugs or a mixture of both, he was sure. He spotted Matsukawa and Hanamaki in the corner of the living room, quietly talking with one of the few other people that seemed totally lucid and made his way over, squeezing his way through the thicker parts of the crowd.

“Well,” Hanamaki drawled, “look who showed up.”

“Hey,” he greeted, and earned a nod from Matsukawa.

“Long night?” Hanamaki asked.

Kuroo shrugged. “Could’ve been shorter. How’s the night been?”

Hanamaki hummed, casting a knowing glance at his boyfriend, who answered for them both. “Interesting.”

Kuroo could feel something amiss, the mischief in their eyes filling his stomach with dread. “What’d you guys do...?”

“Nothing! We promise,” Hanamaki said.

“That may have been the problem,” Matsukawa added.

“What, why?”

Simultaneously, his two friends drew his attention away – Matsukawa nodding behind him, Hanamaki pointing across the room – when he noticed Kageyama having an engaging conversation with someone.

At first, nothing seemed off. He looked like he was enjoying himself, laughing, smiling, talking, socializing. But that’s when it struck him – Kageyama rarely did those things, _especially_ with strangers and _especially_ in crowds. And his stomach dropped.

Kageyama noticed him then, smiled and waved and walked over with a casual confidence that was both unnerving and ridiculously attractive to Kuroo.

“Hey!” Kuroo was disarmed by the wide and seemingly natural smile Kageyama flashed him, his heart skipping a beat and his mind blanking for a split second before he noticed the other’s dilated pupils. He tried not to let his worry show too much.

“Having a fun night?” he asked.

“Yeah, actually, I am now.” Kageyama flashed him another smile, and Kuroo swallowed hard. “I wasn’t really before, but Bokuto’s friend came by and gave him some stuff, and I guess he noticed I wasn’t really feeling it tonight so he gave me some to help. And I feel a lot better now. Did you want a drink?”

Kuroo gaped. Someone was awfully talkative. He was definitely high. “I’m okay for now, actually-“

Kageyama slid closer, slipping his hands around Kuroo’s waist and gently pulling their hips flush together, causing Kuroo to flush himself. “We can dance a little instead.”

Kuroo was feeling... conflicted, to say the least. He was worried because Kageyama had done... something and he wasn’t sure what it was yet, but he had a good idea of what it _could_ be and that only made him worry _more_. Weed and ecstasy was, in all honesty, fairly soft compared to cocaine; he _knew_ what cocaine was like, and, as much as he hated to admit it, he _didn’t_ know what Kageyama was like completely. He didn’t know if this would be a very occasional thing, he didn’t know about his dependency on the stuff, he didn’t know _so much_ and that was what worried him the most.

But... a part of him was actually kind of... _more_ attracted to Kageyama. He was glad the other felt so comfortable and confident and was having fun. He knew a bit about Kageyama’s problems – the school, the no sleep, the terrible dad – so seeing him genuinely happy was relieving. Not to mention the confidence was particularly... _alluring_.

But his anxiety won out in the end.

“Maybe in a bit,” he tried to say casually, gently prying Kageyama’s hands off.

Kageyama didn’t look particularly bothered, just nodded and said, “Alright, later then. We definitely have to tonight.” He punctuated his firm statement with another disarming smile.

“Uh, yeah. Right. Do you... happen to know where Bokuto is?”

Kageyama thought about it for a second and looked around the room, pointing to a rather packed corner. “Probably still playing a drinking game. I got bored, so I stopped a while ago.”

“Thanks; wait right here.” Kuroo didn’t wait long enough for Kageyama to frown or complain about being left and confined to one spot.

He wedged himself into the circle that surrounded the dining room table and the second he saw that salt and pepper head of hair, he grabbed Bokuto by the shoulder and pulled him away, much to the other’s loud complaining.

When Bokuto finally whipped around to see who had dragged him away, his demeanor immediately changed, elated to see his best friend had finally arrived. “Hey! You made it!”

“Yeah, I made it, what the hell happened?”

Bokuto screwed his face up, like he was being accused of something. “What do you mean?”

Kuroo quirked his brow, waiting for Bokuto to figure it out, but judging by _his_ pupils, he wasn’t sober either. “Kageyama...?” He waited again with still no reaction, just a confused look. “What did you give him?”

Bokuto’s eyes widened. “Oh! Oh that.” He shrugged. “Just a little bump, he kinda needed it. He was looking pretty grey and anxious.”

Kuroo groaned. “Why...”

“I told you! Kuroo, he wasn’t having fun. I was just thinking, the kid needs a little push. It was just one bump, it’s not a big deal.”

“Bo, it’s not...” Kuroo could feel his frustration rise, slow and gradual. “It’s not MDMA, it’s not weed, it’s coke. That’s not... that’s really not something you should be giving him.”

“Relaaaaaaaax.” Bokuto slung is arm around Kuroo’s shoulders and shook him, the two swaying gently side to side. “It was honestly not that much, and he’s good for the night, I think – he won’t need any more. Especially now that you’re here.” He gave his friend a sly smile and elbowed him in the side suggestively. Kuroo willed away the blush creeping up his neck. “Listen, it’s just once, one night of fun. It’ll be okay. And look! He’s not manic, he’s not in any danger, he’s just... having fun.”

Kuroo could still feel the pit in his stomach, but he relented. He knew sometimes his anxiety could get the better of him, and in this case, it was. He was at a party, he was with friends, his crush was cute and waiting for him to dance. He shouldn’t be worrying! He’d been advocating for the kid letting loose and having some safe fun this whole time; he was just worried that he wouldn’t be there to keep him safe every single time. But Kageyama was an adult, and he was responsible, just overworked.

Tonight was supposed to be fun, and he was going to allow himself to have it.

So he went and he got himself a drink before finding Kageyama again, who was blessedly being entertained (and distracted) by Matsukawa and Hanamaki still. They welcomed him back, he got to drinking, and his worries melted away pretty fast.

Yes, Kageyama was acting quite out of the ordinary, but only for himself. He was talking a lot, sure, but it wasn’t nearly as obvious as when he tried speed. Yes, he was wildly confident, but it’s not like he thought he was invincible and jumping off the roof. Yes, he was far more energetic than usual, but, like Bokuto said, he wasn’t _manic_. He was just... letting loose.

And after the successful test he took earlier that day, he deserved a little reward, and who was Kuroo to stand in the way of that?

He let the worry fizzle out, and his undeniable attraction burn brighter. He let that guide his hand when they danced, pulling Kageyama closer and meeting him halfway for a kiss, still surprised but no less loving the eagerness the other had.

He certainly wasn’t complaining when the dancing was pushed to the back burner in favor of a little making out, which turned into a _lot_ of making out, effectively destroying any doubt from either of them. Maybe they both needed this, Kuroo thought, albeit briefly. It’d been a while since Kuroo truly felt able to let go and relax – not since he was younger, in his first couple years of university and he was out partying more often than he was doing anything else. It landed him in some tough spots, but this... this was different.

This was slower, easier; it simmered quietly under his skin and settled in his bones. It was comfortable and familiar, and he wanted nothing more than to spend his nights with Kageyama, whether it was at home and talking over takeout, or dancing flush against each other at a packed house party. No matter where they were, he felt... comfortable.

But as nice as comfort was, when Kageyama pushed him back to the unoccupied couch in the corner and climbed into his lap, his blood boiled with desire at a rate he’d thought physically impossible, but didn’t dwell on it long as his hands circled round to Kageyama’s rear to help him grind down into his lap. He was already a little drunk off alcohol and very drunk off lust when Kageyama bit his lip and grinned down at him, peeling off his shirt in a startling display of lack of concern of where they were and who was around. He managed to stop Kageyama of doing a full on strip tease in a stranger’s house, and didn’t even notice Bokuto whooping, strange but supportive, across the room.

After that, though, Bokuto didn’t see them, getting distracted by the immense amount of other stimuli to not notice the pair sneak out of the house and back to Bokuto and Kuroo’s shared apartment. He _did_ notice, though, when he arrived home, bone tired and coming down, to the muffled, gentle thudding of a bed against the wall and quiet moaning and begging from behind Kuroo’s door.

He was glad his friends at least could let _this_ loose.

 

 

 

“Did you show up last night?” Yaku asked, sipping his coffee and leaning an elbow against the table. Life could get hectic sometimes, and even though they saw each other often, Kuroo and Yaku still liked to get together for a coffee somewhere on campus. Just the two of them.

“Yeah, but only for a couple hours.” Kuroo leaned back, his chair creaking under the weight. “Where were you, I didn’t see you at all.”

“I ran into – do you remember Hifumi? Anyway, I met up with her.” Kuroo gave him a sly grin, to which Yaku shot down. “ _Not_ like that.”

“You’ve still got it, huh.”

“Shut up,” Yaku mumbled, lifting his coffee to cover the blush and block Kuroo’s knowing, shit-eating, enjoying-this- _way_ -too-much look. “Anyway, why’d you leave so early? I mean, I know you’re _old_ –” Yaku said, though he was five months _older_ than Kuroo, “–but you can’t possibly be _that_ old.”

“I’m not as young as I once was,” Kuroo said, sighing wistfully. “I’ve gotta have dinner by 4, a warm glass of milk and good book, and I’m asleep by 8.”

Yaku snorted. “Seriously, though, everything okay with you? If you were really that tired, you could’ve just gone home after work. We would’ve understood.”

Kuroo laughed a little awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head and only worsening his bedhead. “Yeah, actually. I mean, nothing’s more than I haven’t been handling for a while, that’s not. The reason I left. Early.” He punctuated it with another little awkward laugh and watched Yaku’s eyes widen when he figured it out.

“Are you...- You’re still doing that...?” Kuroo winced a little at the way Yaku set his jaw, answering with a guilty nod.

But before Yaku could go off on him, he interrupted. “Relax! It wasn’t anything bad, we both wanted to do it, it wasn’t like it was _planned_ -”

“You’re playing with fire! This is a bad idea, for you _both_ -”

“It’s just a little fun! It’s all casual, nothing serious which keeps all the mess away!”

Yaku held up his hands, stopping Kuroo from interrupting again. “Kuroo. This is a _bad_ idea. You’re going to get hurt.”

Kuroo scoffed. “Me? Hurt? Yaku, I think I’m a big boy now, I can take care of myself.”

“You _like_ the kid,” Yaku said, leaning across the table. “I’ve known you a long time, Kuroo, I know when you like someone and I know when you pull stupid shit that only ends up hurting you in the end.”

“Of course I _like_ Kageyama, we all do! Don’t you?”

“That’s _not_ what I meant, and you know it.”

Kuroo knew he was right, but he wasn’t going to admit it. Not to Yaku, not to Kageyama, not to _anyone_. And certainly not to himself. It was the only way to keep the status quo the way it was, avoid losing Kageyama or making things awkward, and – even though he _knew_ it wasn’t the healthiest or the smartest decision – he could indulge in being able to touch and kiss and pretend with the other.

Yaku sighed. “Why can’t you just admit it?”

Kuroo put up a wall. A nonchalant facade, like this conversation and its subject didn’t matter to him, something he could easily brush off if need be. He shrugged, and with a smirk hiding his self-doubt, aching heart, and a whole lot of denial, he said, “There’s nothing to admit.”

 

 

 

Kageyama didn’t get much sleep the night before, surprise surprise, which had him a little off his game at practice that afternoon. He was flubbing more often than usual, so he forced himself to take a minute, focus, and go slower.

The problem was, that didn’t quite gel with the rest of the team, and he could feel the storm in his stomach brew as his coach looked on in disappointment.

He’d been doing _so good_ up until now, and now he was tripping up, setting himself back on ruining his end goal.

He grumbled during a break, plopping down on a bench with his water bottle.

“Hey!” Bokuto plopped down next to him. “Still a little hungover?”

Kageyama shrugged.

Bokuto patted him on the back. “It happens to all of us, don’t worry. We all understand.”

“Yeah, well, I’m sure the coach doesn’t understand.”

“Ehh, he’ll get over it. He’s gotta deal with us, after all.”

Somehow, that didn’t make Kageyama feel any better. It was easy for _Bokuto_ to say that, he already _was_ a regular. But Kageyama was still working towards that, still had to prove himself as a dedicated, responsible, talented player and so much more just to even hope to play in an actual game this term.

He was thankful for the break, allowing himself to recompose and channel his frustration into a drive to succeed. It was something his father always lectured him to do when it would get the best of him and he’d fall apart. He may have hated being scolded about how his emotions controlled him sometimes, but... it was great advice.

Even if it really only worked with volleyball most of the time.

He needed to prove to himself that he was more than just his emotions or his failures. He needed to prove it to his dad so he could be allowed to stay in volleyball and stay in Tokyo, and to just finally, _maybe_ make him proud.

If he could make it as a regular _and_ do well in school, his dad would _have_ to recognize his hard work, he’d have to be proud of him. He’d be juggling so much and staying on top of things and being responsible and successful.

He just had to tackle it all head-on. Right now.

If there was anything Kageyama had, though, it was drive, and drive he did. Drove those volleyballs straight into the other side of the court. It earned a few pleased nods and compliments from his teammates, but, most importantly, self satisfaction.

Unfortunately, this turn around happened at the tail end of practice, and his high had to be cut off short. Fortunately, he could end practice on a good note, and left the gymnasium with the others tired and pleased.

Outside, he found Kuroo, Matsukawa, and Hanamaki waiting, chatting each other up and having a short smoke.

“Oh, God,” Hanamaki pinched his nose and waved his hand through the air when Bokuto ran up to them, “did you shower at all?”

Bokuto sniffed himself and frowned. “I don’t smell anything.”

“You smell like my armpit after my month strike from bathing,” Matsukawa said, straight-faced and unashamed.

Hanamaki snapped his fingers and pointed in realization. “That’s what it is.”

While the three of them squabbled over which day of said month most closely resembled the particular odour Bokuto currently exhumed, Kuroo slung his arm around Kageyama’s shoulders in a... surprisingly affectionate side hug. Not too overly affectionate, Kuroo thought, especially with the others around, but judging by the way Kageyama’s mouth quirked in one corner and his cheeks grew a sweet shade of pink, it was enough to get his intentions across.

He’d been feeling closer to the other lately, and while it did fill his chest with a warm, fuzzy feeling, like he was a lovesick school girl, he didn’t want to betray his true feelings and make Kageyama uncomfortable _or_ incur the mockery or (in Yaku’s case) concern from his friends.

Kageyama more than appreciated the little bit of special treatment from the special someone, though. It wasn’t something he could say he was used to, at least on a personal level. Some people – teammates, coaches, even talent scouts – have given him somewhat special treatment in volleyball, but he lacked it in his friendships, relationships, and _especially_ at home. It was... nice to feel a little special.

But just a little.

“How was practice?” Kuroo asked.

Kageyama shrugged. “Okay, I guess.”

“He was really hitting his stride towards the end,” Bokuto interjected, pressing Hanamaki’s distressed face into his sweaty armpit while his boyfriend watched on. “You shoulda seen him, he’s gotten better in the last few weeks.”

This was more than a little special treatment now. Kageyama didn’t really know how to feel.

“Well, as long as you’re not tired,” Bokuto added.

Aaaand there it was. He frowned and Bokuto laughed, finally releasing Hanamaki. “You’ll get used to it.”

“Hey, at least you’re improving, right?” Kuroo turned Kageyama’s attention back to him, gently nudging his side. “Bokuto wasn’t even where you are now when he was a first year.”

“Hey!”

“Just don’t work yourself too hard, it’ll just burn you out quicker.”

Kageyama nodded; he _knew_ that, and he was going to take it easier. Once he knew his grades were up and he was a regular on the team, even if just as a back-up. He’ll give himself that much.

“Yeah, and tonight we’re gonna really let off some steam,” Bokuto said.

“What, again?” He’d barely recovered from last night.

“Yeah, AgeHa’s having this _big_ event tonight. It’s not like we have anything tomorrow, right? It’s Sunday.”

“I guess...” Kageyama mumbled.

Kuroo frowned. “It’s not like you have to c-”

He was interrupted suddenly – and loudly – by someone yelling for Tobio, and the five of them whipped around to see a very aggravated looking man standing a ways away from them, hands in the pants of his business suit, but made no move to come over.

Kageyama’s shoulders drew in and he bowed his head a bit, mumbling something about being back in a minute, and he slunk off to go speak to the man.

Judging from the loud and _angry_ conversation about how the man expects Tobio to _answer_ his phone (and Kageyama’s protests he was in practice) and just the overall horrible demeanour, Kuroo made the educated guess that that was Kageyama’s father.

The same father that put Kageyama under an inordinate amount of pressure, threatens to pull him out of school, and deeply upsets the boy every time he gets a new call. In the flesh.

Kuroo had half a mind to march on over there and tell him off, but he knew that’d solve absolutely nothing. Probably just make things worse, in fact.

“Yikes,” Hanamaki commented, his nosey friends watching on. Not like he was really one to talk. “No wonder that kid’s so repressed.” Kuroo shot him a look, one that told him to stop talking.

Maybe he was a little more wound up about this unexpected visit than he thought.

Their conversation was too quiet now for Kuroo to eavesdrop anymore, but Kageyama’s dad still looked like he was simmering. By the time he stomped off, Kageyama was left looking at the ground in barely contained frustration.

For a moment, nobody moved. Kuroo watched a myriad of emotions cross Kageyama’s face, torn and frustrated and clearly trying to figure something out. It seemed he’d come to some kind of conclusion, because he marched back over with purpose.

Kuroo was about to ask him if he was okay, but Kageyama barely even looked his way, cutting him off before he could get a word out.

“I’ll be there,” he said, addressing Bokuto. He paused, giving Kuroo a short, unsure glance for a split second before continuing. “And bring something fun.”

 

 

 

You could say Kuroo was a little concerned, based off of what transpired earlier that day. Between the berating and humiliating Kageyama’s father put his son through – in front of his _friends_ no less – and the troubling thing he said before he’d stomped off without another word, he had every right to be worried.

Bokuto insisted that he’d cool off and Kuroo should just let it go. When Kuroo expressed _more_ concern about Bokuto actually calling up a friend that sold MDMA if he was going to be at the club tonight, Bokuto tried to quell his concern by insisting he was going to be getting stuff for tonight anyway.

How that was supposed to make Kuroo feel better, he didn’t know.

“The kid’s stressed, let him let off a little steam!” Bokuto insisted, digging through a pile of laundry in his room for a suitable outfit for the night.

“Oh, what, like last night?”

Bokuto turned around to give him a knowing look. “And how did that turn out for you?”

“Shut up, that’s not the point.”

“I’m just saying it’s just a little fun. If you’re really _that_ worried, keep an eye on him, though honestly, if you’re asking me, you’ve been pretty wound up lately, too.” Bokuto tossed another suitable shirt on the bed next to where Kuroo was sitting. “You need to relax, too.”

“I do not need to rel-”

“You do,” Bokuto scoffed. “You’ve been weird lately.”

Kuroo paused. “What’s lately?”

“Like, the last year.” Kuroo relaxed a bit. He was worried for a second there that the conversation would devolve into him liking Kageyama, which wasn’t even a _big deal_ in the first place and definitely didn’t need to be addressed, but it seemed that wasn’t what Bokuto was referring to.

Actually...

“Wait, what do you mean?”

Bokuto sighed wistfully. “Remember our first year? Or even second year? Third year was also good, but ever since then you’ve been kinda... slowing down with the-“ he waved his hands in the air, trying to snatch the right word out of it, “-fun.”

“I haven’t really.”

“You work most nights, you’re taking more classes than you even need to, and whenever you’re home you’re either studying or doing homework.”

It was true that Kuroo did work hard a lot, but he had to. Money doesn’t materialize from lying around the apartment, and neither do masters degrees. He was just lucky he decided against trying to be a TA or a licensed tutor, Kageyama’s lesson excluded. But it’s not like he never took a break, he tried when he had the time.

“Actually, ever since Kageyama showed up, you started letting yourself have fun again, so _don’t_ ruin that tonight.” Bokuto punctuated his point by tossing a blessedly clean pair of boxers at Kuroo’s face. “Just don’t take things too seriously.”

Bokuto had a point; maybe Kuroo _did_ just need to let it go and allow himself – and poor, stressed out Kageyama – to have unhindered, worriless fun. Everyone was going, so there’d be more eyes on Kageyama to make sure he didn’t do anything troublesome, they’d be in a fairly public place on top of that, and _if_ they were going to be using, MDMA was a fairly soft drug. At least it wasn’t like last night, things’d be fine.

He had nothing to worry about.

 

 

 

Under normal circumstances, Kageyama’d have plenty to worry about. Flashing lights, loud, thumping music, sweaty crowds of people bumping into you, invading your personal space. Four months ago, Kageyama would’ve pegged this as one of his rings of Hell – maybe third or fourth – but now this environment energized him.

Granted, it was probably because he had a few drinks in him to loosen up his nerves and dull his senses, and that he had Kuroo pressed right against his side nearly the whole time. With Kuroo around, he felt confident, comfortable, _safe_.

He hasn’t had a person make him feel like this in a while.

It certainly helped when Bokuto found his little dealer friend and provided for them some well-deserved and welcomed ecstasy. Kuroo still felt a little apprehensive, but he swallowed his nerves down along with the bitter pill.

He earned a little fun, and what better night to have it, what better place to do it, and who better to have it with?

And when he let that careless, easy-going side take over (heavily aided by the E), let the music guide his hands to Kageyama’s hips and roll in tandem with the waves of the beat, all else fell by the wayside. It was such a welcome distraction from all the problems he’d been having as of late, even if one of those “problems” was grinding his ass back into Kuroo in slow, lush rolls.

The only thing that mattered at this moment in time was the way Kageyama’s hips fit between his hands, how warm his skin was when Kuroo would push his shirt up just enough for a little sliver of his skin to show.

The drug worked its way through their systems quicker than expected, but eased the two into it, filling their heads with sweet, soft cotton and electrifying their senses, like a when dark, heavy clouds rolled into the distance and lightning sparked between, quiet and distant.

Kageyama snaked his hand around Kuroo’s head, leaning his own back against the taller’s shoulder and closed his eyes in calm bliss, comfortable to just quietly sway and roll his hips back against the other.

Kuroo, on the other hand, felt the overwhelming need to squeeze the boy as tight to his chest as he could, his senses overloaded and mind clouded with barely contained desire. He had half a mind not to do it and alarm Kageyama to his sudden neediness, but the other half of his mind was also long lost to the music and the crowd and the absolutely _torturous_ way Kageyama moved back against him. He couldn’t help burying his face in the crook of Kageyama’s neck, kissing and biting there with the same leisurely pace the music took, one arm wrapping around the boy’s middle and the other stuffing its way down his pants.

Kageyama jolted, his hips canting up and, if the music wasn’t so loud, Kuroo would’ve heard the low, throaty moan he’d made. He was half-hard already and his breathing quickened as he moved his hand, palming the other through his boxers. The music drowned him out, but Kuroo could still feel the shuddering breath wrack through Kageyama’s chest, feeling the boy roll his hips back into Kuroo’s own stiffening cock.

If Kuroo could’ve lived in this moment forever, he would’ve. If he could’ve stopped time, or even just slowed it to a crawl, he would’ve done _everything_ in his power to do so. Being high certainly _helped_ time feel like it was passing by at a much slower pace, like he and Kageyama and everyone else were moving underwater, but he knew that this moment would pass and he’d make _damn_ sure he didn’t waste a second of it.

He squeezed Kageyama and this time he _heard_ that keen, high and needy, if only cause his ear was so close now. But before he could really give them a reason to get kicked out if they got caught, Kageyama pulled Kuroo’s hand out of his pants and turned around, snaking one hand round the back of his head and pulling him down for a deep, slow, but _hungry_ kiss.

Actually, if Kuroo could pause time, now would be it. Right as he was slipping his hands around Kageyama’s waist and pulling him flush against him, right as Kageyama groaned into the kiss and rolled his hips into Kuroo’s and they both could feel the other half hard. Right as Kageyama threaded his fingers through his soft, thick hair and pulled _ever_ so lightly, getting Kuroo to nudge one leg between the other’s. He’d pause right there and stay till the universe collapsed in on itself and not have a single care.

This is where he wanted to be.

After a brief moment of Kageyama rutting against Kuroo’s leg and eating his face off, he balled up his hands in Kuroo’s shirt and pulled away, dragging Kuroo with him.

Kuroo, lost in the moment and entranced by the other, couldn’t care less where Kageyama was leading him. He could’ve lead him off the edge of a cliff and into chilly water crashing against jagged rocks and he still would’ve followed, completely enamoured.

Kageyama weaved his way through the crowd, slowly and with great caution, making a beeline for the washrooms.

The men’s room was more crowded than expected, and as grimy as Kuroo would’ve guessed a club’s bathroom would be. There was a couple making out in the corner, and he would’ve bet on his life there was at least one in one of the stalls getting the bathroom even more filthy. There was some writing on the stalls, but for the most part, the place was just unclean; lights hummed and one in a corner even flickered every minute or so, the mirrors looked like they’d seen much better days, and he wouldn’t put _anything_ down on those counters. The floor was strewn with what he hoped was just clean, wadded up tissue, but knew better than to believe it was.

The place played just the slightest of wake-up calls, having him hesitate a moment before Kageyama shoved him back first into an open stall, rough and impatient. He kicked the stall door behind him closed, the door rattling on its hinges and the lock. Kuroo nearly lost his footing, almost falling back to sit on the toilet seat and blessedly able to stay on his two feet for all of two seconds before Kageyama grabbed him and pulled him in for another searing, desperate kiss.

He tried to return the other’s eagerness, the nips and licks and the occasional suck, but he had been knocked completely out of his earlier reverie by the harsh lighting and rough treatment.

This was only furthered as Kageyama pulled away and wasted no time in sinking to his knees on the yellowing tile floor.

He could hear somewhere in the back of his mind little warning bells, whispers of warnings that _something_ was off, his anxiety overriding the sweet bliss of ecstasy and lust. However, the warnings were quiet and easily muffled by the hiss of his belt being pulled through his metal buckle and the zipper to his jeans being pulled down, Kageyama shuffling his pants down just low enough so that he could pull Kuroo’s briefs down and free his stiffening cock.

Kuroo stared down, a little hazy, a little drunk, and just the tiniest bit alarmed, hands braced on either side of the stall walls, but he never refused nor pushed Kageyama away, despite all his worries still wanting this _desperately_.

And when Kageyama took him in hand and began to stroke, firm but languidly, he couldn’t help carding one hand through the boy’s hair, pushing it back from his forehead when he licked that first broad, hot swipe up the underside of Kuroo’s cock.

He groaned, low and deep in his chest, shutting his eyes for just a moment as he felt Kageyama circle the tip with a warm, wet, and pointed tongue, opening his eyes again just in time to watch him finally, after _so fucking long_ , taking him into his mouth.

Kuroo could feel Kageyama moan, quiet and small, at that first bob of his head, shallow and short, a blush rising high in his cheeks. Kageyama started slow, kept a steady pace, going just a little deeper every time and sucking whenever he pulled back.

He pulled off, mouth red and chin sticky, a string of drool connecting his bottom lip to the tip of Kuroo’s dick and even without the ecstasy coursing through him, Kuroo’d think he still would’ve shuddered. Kageyama looked up at him, giving him the smallest of laziest smiles, lips tugging at one corner to reveal teeth and eyes glassy and hooded, still stroking him slow and relaxed, squeezing on the up-stroke. And Kuroo’s heart leapt into his throat.

And he just thought,

_Oh no._

_Oh fuck._

_He was definitely in love with Kageyama Tobio_.

He didn’t even have the mind to deny it or to stop that thought dead in its tracks like he normally did, no, it flashed through his head and stayed there, playing like a broken record to the dull, muffled beat that vibrated through the bathroom walls.

Didn’t have time to deal with the realization that this was _so much more_ than a silly little crush that he’d get over, that he was unmistakeably, definitely, one hundred and ten freaking percent in love with this boy. And that he was realizing this at now of all times, as that very same love of his pathetic fucking life was sucking him off in a dirty club bathroom.

He could barely keep up with the whirlwind of his thoughts, coming back to himself as he felt the tip of his cock bump the back of Kageyama’s throat and still go _further_ , the boy only stopping briefly to quietly gag before continuing until his nose was nestled in the musky hair at the base of Kuroo’s dick, where he stayed a moment to swallow around the girth, somehow opening his mouth wide enough to allow himself to still lick Kuroo’s balls.

Kuroo was reeling.

His head was still spinning as Kageyama quickened the pace of his bobbing head, drool and pre-cum dribbling down his chin in a beautiful, disgusting, sticky mess, until Kageyama felt Kuroo tense briefly, the hand in his hair grabbing by the roots, and pulling off just enough to stroke Kuroo, the tip of his dick pressed to the flat of his tongue.

And he came. He watched himself come on Kageyama’s tongue, watched the other squirm and continue to stroke until completion, watched it pool in his mouth before disappearing behind pink lips and he swallowed, and looked up at Kuroo with such a sleepy, proud look on his face.

Kuroo swallowed hard.

He was in love with Kageyama Tobio.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> likes, subscribes, shares, recommendations, letters by mail, and ESPECIALLY comments REALLY help me!! It's hard to feel motivated sometimes without comments, not gonna lie, but anything is very much appreciated!!
> 
> follow me on twitter or tumblr @tobieaux for more kurokage and more clubbin au talk!
> 
> youtube playlist: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLJlnr2QnTDg-EcYbRw7gildh6dBwdo9xr  
> new songs added with every update!!

**Author's Note:**

> V special thanks and even a lil dedicated to my friend who's the best Kuroo ever and helped me out with this au a lot
> 
> Talk to me abt how great kurokage would be and how underappreciated it is on twitter @bewarebzou or tumblr @tobieaux
> 
> edit: heres the playlist if anyone is interested https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLJlnr2QnTDg-EcYbRw7gildh6dBwdo9xr


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